


good girl

by goandneverlookback



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying During Sex, F/F, Growing Up, Hook-Up Culture, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Suicide, Self Harm, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, drugs??, eating disorders if you squint, emotional abuse if you squint, i dont really know how to tag this, just like weed and cigs and alcohol, just writing my feelings out, minimal plot major feelings, not in any way condoning all of this, projection who??, unhealthy family dynamics, yall i didn't mean for this to get so dark but here we are i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 32,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goandneverlookback/pseuds/goandneverlookback
Summary: Bea Anderson was everything she was told to be, everything that made everyone else happy. Trixie Mattel doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 127
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

Beatrice Anderson was a good girl. Still is by most anyone's standards. Bea graduated in the top five percent of her high school class. She went on to college, and graduated with a bachelor's at the ripe old age of twenty one. She didn't drink until her twenty first birthday. She never did any drugs, went to any parties. Beatrice pulled all nighters to study and work. She got a job helping people, doing something she feels is meaningful. She calls home to her family, makes sure they feel loved. But things are changing. Things have been changing. Beatrice isn't an Anderson anymore. Legally now, she's Beatrice Mattel, the biggest middle finger to her close knit conservative family. Close knit to everyone but her. She's never felt like she belonged with them. The first time she brought up changing her surname, at sixteen, ages ago, they had told her if she did so she wouldn't be part of the family anymore. As if Anderson is a rare enough name to determine family relation. So four years later, months before her twenty first birthday and a semester before graduating college, she didn't ask their permission or opinion before filing the necessary legal paperwork. She told them at every step. “Hey I'm thinking about changing my name.” “Hey I'm going to change my name.” “Hey I filed the paperwork to change my name.” Not that that stopped her mother from nearly exploding when she got onto Beatrice's college account (she cursed herself for not thinking earlier to change her password) and saw the change. Her last semester of college, Beatrice was in a theatre production she knew her parents would hate. She loved it anyways. She loved everything new she got to learn. She told them not to come. And they came anyway. To “support Bea.” They haven't supported her in five years, and she hasn't been Bea in four. They hated it, and she couldn't bring herself to care. They told her public transportation was dangerous. They told her the devil was in New York City. They told her it wasn't safe to go alone. But she packed her bag, got on a bus, and spent a week in the city that never sleeps. And she loved every second of it. And now she's twenty two, and it's almost a year since she graduated. She's spent a year working, working, working. Saving up to get out of this god forsaken Midwestern state. She's spent the year learning. And now Beatrice is Trixie. And Trixie has learned too much she feels sometimes. She's learned too much about how people treat each other. She's learned too much about how society functions, or fails to. She doesn't think she's learned enough about being young. Trixie thinks it's ridiculous that she can walk into work and not be surprised if she gets beat up, and has never smoked a cigarette. She thinks it's ridiculous that she has done masters level work (and will do again) for less than the minimum wage of the states she wants to move to, and has never gotten drunk. She's had a job where she gets drug tested since before she could get her driver's license. So Trixie Mattel makes a to do list for the year. 

  * Cigarettes
  * Alcohol
  * Weed
  * Sex
  * Move



Somehow, Beatrice Anderson, who took care of her brother and had unending amounts of happiness and love, became Trixie Mattel, who goes for a run every day after the sun sets, or before it rises, or both, to lose the stress of the day (and if she's lucky maybe the flab around her jawline too). Trixie Mattel buys a pack of cigarettes and a pack of gum from the gas station two blocks over, and goes for a forty minute walk downtown at 12:30am, smoking the entirety of her first cigarette. Trixie Mattel makes a tinder account, and swears to herself one day she'll work up the courage to message a girl and tell her in no uncertain terms that she is very interested in eating her out, and maybe even getting eaten out in return. She fills out application after application for jobs hundreds of miles from where she sits on her bed, curled over her computer, guzzling coffee. Trixie learns how she likes eyeliner, and while she doesn't dare wear it to work (the straight male population is disgusting enough when she shows up in scrubs, a blank face, and hair still in the braids she slept in), she wears it to the store. She wears it in her apartment. And it makes her feel fierce. She gets lost until the wee hours of the morning, scrolling endlessly through apartments she'd love to move to. Her standards aren't high--a shoebox on the east coast, with her own bathroom? An absolute dream. She learns how she likes to look, putting all the clothes she never outgrew up for sale online, starting to invest in little pieces that she loves, little pieces that feel like  _ her. _ A bright pink lacey bralette. Nude fishnets. Bea Anderson was everything she was told to be, everything that made everyone else happy. Trixie Mattel doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. She doesn't need anyone else. Bea Anderson was undeniably a good girl, but Trixie Mattel wants to feel what it is to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory statement that this is a fictional character. Also like, I don't think there's anything wrong with marijuana, but it's not legal in the state this fic takes place. You can fully be an adult and not have had sex, done drugs, gotten drunk, whatever. And that's cool. But like, the character in this story isn't in a great headspace.


	2. Chapter 2

Tendrils of long blonde hair flying into her face, despite frustrated, frantic attempts to shove them back. Fresh tears threaten to spring forth with the force of her hacking coughs.   
“Here.” A plastic water bottle with the label ripped off is held out to here and Trixie follows the line of the extended hand up to the face framed with messy blonde hair. Great. Of course she would show up now. She takes a gulp from the bottle and can’t help the slight gasp that sneaks out.  
“That’s not water.” Bright red lips quirk up on one side.  
“Are you complaining?” Trixie throws the contents of the bottle back, better prepared for the accompanying burn this time.  
“No.” The taller of the two girls finishes half the bottle before replacing the cap and handing it back.  
“I’m Katya.” Piercing blue eyes stare up at her, but all she returns is a glance, focusing back on her cigarette.  
“Cool.” She takes another drag, nicotine and alcohol flooding her brain.  
“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”   
“You already know what it is.”  
“Your real name.”  
“Trixie.” It still feels almost foreign rolling off her tongue. Almost foreign, but still so right.   
“What’s it a nickname for?” Trixie exhales fiercely and turns to face the imp of a human beside her.  
“Listen, do you want to play fifty questions, or do you want to find someplace and fuck?”  
“Mama I’m always down to fuck, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I? But those tear streaks aren’t just from your cig, Barbie.”  
“That’s none of your business.” Katya studies her resolve, quaking but with steel in her backbone.  
“My apartment’s this way.” She reaches out and grabs Trixie’s hand, leading her down the lamplit street. The stoplights blink in the early hours of the morning. They don’t stop for any of them, any traffic seldom and far between. The moon shines up above, nearly full and uncovered by clouds. “The moon is a lesbian.” Trixie doesn’t answer right away, and Katya wonders if she’s going to answer at all.  
“Okay.” Her voice sounds almost devoid of emotion, almost to the point of all the emotion she has held inside breaking through.  
“Just thought you should know. She was probably my first girlfriend.” Katya’s grin slides off her face as she looks over at Trixie, her face still stoic and … empty. Everything. They reach a several storied house and Katya lets them in, immediately heading up a narrow flight of stairs before she has to unlock another door. Trixie takes a few steps in as Katya locks the door behind them. The apartment is neat, but lived in. Artistic. A full bed sits next to the small window. Katya kicks off her shoes and invites Trixie to do the same. She wordlessly follows suit. “Whatcha thinkin,’ Barbie?” Trixie turns to make direct eye contact before answering.  
“I want you to ride my face until you snap my neck.” Katya raises her eyebrows, but Trixie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t crack a grin. Just stares at her with that same deadened expression that Katya knows, oh god she knows, comes with feeling all too much for too long. She shrugs and Trixie nods, moving towards the bed.   
“At least take your jacket off first,” Katya quips as she struggles with her skinny jeans. Trixie drops her jacket on top of her shoes and lays down with her head towards the headboard, moonlight spilling over the bed near her feet. Katya climbs up onto the bed, settling her knees on either side of Trixie’s head. “You sure about this, Barbie?” Trixie tries to still the slight tremor in her arms as she wraps them around Katya’s thighs. She nods, almost imperceptibly. She tugs Katya down to her but is met with resistance. The raises her dark brown eyes to meet Katya’s blue, filled with warmth despite their cool color. “Trixie, are you sure this is what you want? We don’t have to. We can stop.” Katya can feel the force of Trixie’s exhale on her inner thigh.  
“Yes.” Trixie pulls at her again, but again Katya refuses.  
“Yes to what?” Some sort of expression crosses Trixie's face, but as soon as it appeared, it’s gone.  
“This is what I want.” Katya lets herself be pulled close to Trixie this time. She feels a shuddered breath before a tentative lick at sensitive flesh. The unintended tease draws a groan from Katya and she can feel Trixie respond. Her tongue dives into Katya, exploring with a hungry desperation. Katya rolls her hips and feels one of Trixie’s arms release her leg, coming up to her hip and lower back. Her breaths quicken and she lets out a soft whine as Trixie’s nose repeatedly brushes her clit. Trixie has both hands on her hips now, pulling Katya down to grind even further into her face. Katya has one hand tangled in Trixie’s long, blonde hair, one hand bracing herself against the wall. “Trixie, I — please…” She can barely form the words she wants as her brain fires closer to bliss. Trixie releases a hip and tentatively circles Katya’s clit with her thumb, taking cues from the sounds coming from above her. She begins rolling the bundle of tissues between her thumb and first finger while alternating licks around and inside and Katya is undone. She grinds down and Trixie’s tongue reaches further than before, still flexing and moving. She throws her head back, tugging at Trixie’s hair as every fiber of her being alights. Her thighs shake as she lifts herself off of Trixie’s face, which finally quirks a grin.  
“That was good?” Katya snorts as she catches her breath, lightly slapping Trixie’s arm.  
“You said you were new to this.”  
“Fast learner.” They lay in silence for a few moments before Katya sits back up, looking over at Trixie. The grin has faded but her face looks more alive than before.   
“You?” Trixie lifts herself up on her elbows and nods, taking a deep breath.   
“Yeah.” Katya nods and tugs Trixie further down the bed, moonlight spilling over her abdomen and thighs. She puts her hands on Trixie’s waistband and pauses. Trixies nods and Katya pulls the pants down, discarding them to the side. Trixie pushes down her underwear and they going the pile of abandoned clothing.  
“This is okay?”  
“Please.”  
Katya places a gentle lick up Trixie’s center and can see the way her legs twitch, hear the way her careful breaths hitch. Trixie’s hand shakes as it comes down to rest Katya’s head. She continues her gentle licks, soft, consistent, exploring. Trixie’s hips begin to twitch as her fingers tangle into Katya’s hair. Her breaths shutter in and out and Katya watches her eyes squeeze shut and free hand clench the sheets. A fierce tug brings Katya up as Trixie’s thighs slam shut, curling up on her side, one hand still tangled in Katya’s hair, eyes still squeezed shut, breaths still shuttered. Katya gently unclenches the fingers in her hair, lacing her fingers through them instead. She lays down by Trixie, gently stroking her upper arm. Her heart tugs as Trixie curls into Katya’s chest, tears threatening the edges of her eyes.  
“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Trixie holds onto Katya with a desperate intensity as the dam breaks. Katya can feel the tears soaking her shirt and simply holds her. Minutes pass and Trixie’s breaths begin to even out.   
“I’m sorry.” The voice is so quiet that Katya almost missed it. So young, so sad, so resign. Not the strong, firm tone from the beginning of the night. Not the playful tease from less than an hour ago.   
“Hey, no apologies. You’re okay, Barbie.” She tugs Trixie closer to her chest in a hug before pulling back. Trixie keeps her eyes cast down as Katya studies her. “Do you want to talk about it or…” She trails off, I sure what to do next. Trixie sniffs, blinking slowly, eyes trained on the wet spot of shirt near Katya’s collarbone as she takes a deep shuddering breath.  
“I’m so tired. And scared. And lonely. God I’m so alone. And I’m so tired of being sad.” She exhales, steadier than before, and wipes her eyes. “But you had me here for sex, not for me to freak out on you. So I can go. I should go. Trixie sits up, avoiding all eye contact, moving to get off the bed as Katya catches her hand.  
“Wait.” She reluctantly looks back to see Katya staring up at her, blue eyes warm and concerned. She stares back, her gaze darting every couple of seconds, mainly to the hand Katya still holds. “Look, I—yeah, I met up with you because I think you’re hot as fuck, and we vibed well, or whatever the kids say. But don’t go. Stay a while?” She can see the cogs working in Trixie’s brain. “You’ve got some shit going on upstairs, Barbie. And I know a thing or two about the shit upstairs. You never have to see me again if you don’t want to, but I’ll listen if you want to talk.” Katya falls silent, Trixie’s warm brown eyes studying her with exhaustion. She drops her eyes and Katya’s hand to sit next to her on the bed.  
“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. So I didn’t intend this to be longer than a one shot but here we are. Might rewrite this to have the first chapter chronicaling Katya instead of Trixie and then changing the second chapter up a bit too. Who knows. Comment if you’ve got an opinion. Doesn’t have to be an opinion on this fic. Could be an opinion on snakes. Anything is fair game.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. This chapter talks about some heavy stuff. If you're sensitive to mentions of suicide, self harm, family issues, etc., this is probably not for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to hit up my inbox. I'm here for you.

They sit shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the bed, moonlight spilling in behind them. Trixie picks at the skin around her fingernails already chewed to the bit. Katya reaches over and captures one hand in her own, and watches as Trixie wraps her free hand around it as well, drawing circles into pale skin. She doesn’t push--thoughts are racing through Trixie’s brain with such an intensity that Katya feels she can hear the whirring. And so she waits.  
“If I’m still here in six months, I’m going to kill myself.” The words spilling from Trixie’s lips are numb, emotionless--factual. Trixie opens and closes Katya’s hand, stretching her fingers, palpating the muscles, the tendons, the bones underneath it all. “I wonder if maybe I should have the first time I wanted to. Or the time after that. Or the time after that. Even though I know logically I shouldn’t. But I’m so tired, y’know? Things get better and then...and then they don’t. Things go back to the way they’ve always been. And sometimes I wonder if maybe this is just how I am. Maybe I’m not meant to be happy. Because I was so close, and things were going so well, and then--then everything fell apart. And I haven’t felt this way since...well, part of me says years ago, part of me says this never completely went away. I just don’t have anything else to occupy my brain right now. I think that’s why I stay so busy, because the days off where I have to deal with my own head are more exhausting than filling the time with anything else.” She pauses to breathe, to recoup, hesitating over her next thoughts. Katya circles the back of Trixie’s hand with her thumb. It’s not time for her to speak. “Sometimes I worry I’ll move far away from here and I’ll find out I’ve only ever been trying to run away from myself. What if I move out there and I can’t do it? What if I’m the only thing that’s ever been holding me back? What if I move away from here and all the hurt stays right there with me?” Her hand holds Katya’s gently, but the other grips into her thigh just above her knee, hard enough to bruise unless Katya is mistaken.  
“Hey.” Katya’s voice is soft, but it’s enough to bring Trixie back. She drops her gaze from straight ahead back into her lap, the hand on her knee loosening. When Trixie speaks again, her voice is steady, even.  
“I worked so hard to discover, to shape, to create the person I am away from who they wanted me to be. And now I do not care. I should care. But I just...can’t.” She shrugs, numb exhaustion painted across every single one of her features. “I want to self-destruct. I think that’s part of it. I told myself I wanted to learn to know. Now I don’t know whether it was genuine curiosity, or if it was always a desire to tear myself apart. I don’t know. I just...I don’t...I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” She falls silent and resumes playing with Katya’s hand, gently, the movements smaller than before.  
“Where do you want to go?”  
“Anywhere but here. Somewhere far from the conservative midwest. Somewhere far from everything that...y’know? Because I love it here. I love my apartment. I love the city. But it’s so close to...where I grew up.” Calling them family, or even her parents, anything indicating relation, feels so wrong right now. Like it paints a picture of a different color. “I want to go to the east coast. I don’t care what everyone says about the people there. They feel like my kind of people, yknow? And it’s so far. Word can’t travel like it does here. I can’t break my mother’s heart by just being me out there. When I leave, they don’t have to know me anymore….They don’t know me now, they just don’t know that yet.” Words tumble out of Trixie faster than she can filter them, and she feels the familiar tug in her chest. Knowing she’ll never be able to be who she is around the people she loved for so long--and to some extent still does--physically aches when she thinks on it too long. They’re not terrible people. They’re not even a terrible family. The three of them function well with each other--a cohesive family unit. For so long she’s felt like an outsider, distant, odd, out of place. And she knows she’s not imagining it. They see it too. They may pretend not to, but they can’t take back the words they’ve already said. So Trixie takes them and makes them her own. She is a freak. An opinionated, liberal, freak. A monster. A queer. Not that they’ve called her the last one. They still cling to the idea of her marrying a man, settling down, having children. A beautiful white dress for a beautiful church wedding. A house in the country. No. They don’t talk about that. And Trixie won’t be the one to tell them. Not with the way she hears them talk about people like her. Not since she was in early high school, her mother screaming at her, asking if she was a lesbian, Trixie denying it wholeheartedly. She didn’t know yet. Looking back, her mind was protecting her. “Sometimes I think about...like...doing the stuff I used to. There’s still so much of me that wants to peel back all the layers of my skin and see what's underneath. Just to feel….something. I--I know more now. I know why it worked. That doesn’t mean it actually worked. But now I know more about endorphins, and brain chemistry. And I know it’s not a productive solution. But sometimes it just feels like, it would be so...easy. And like I deserve it, yknow? For being twenty two and still being here. For failing to get out and do the things I always said. Failing to...I don’t know. Failing to do so many things. Failing at so many things I tried to do. All the feelings are still there. I just know how to ignore them now. How not to let them overwhelm me and logic through them when they calm down.” At some point Trixie’s free right hand has come up to grip the inside of her left upper arm in the same harsh manner it gripped her thigh.Katya gently peels her fingers back, uncovering age old scars to interlace the fingers of both of their hands. She listens to the story spilling out of the near stranger in front of her. Trixie struggles to feel anything but a bone deep loneliness and exhaustion. Katya still sees a pillar of strength. Trixie dips her head to lean against Katya’s shoulder, feeling as though all of her insides have been taken out and laid on display. They remain there for a few minutes, Katya solemn and contemplative, Trixie spent. A gentle finger traces her jawline before tapping twice on the corner near her ear. She lifts her head and Katya stands, grabbing both of their underwear from where they’d been discarded and boxers from a dresser in the corner. She tosses a pair to Trixie while slipping into hers. She pulls back the blankets on her bed as Trixie stands to dress. Crawling into bed, she holds the sheets up for Trixie, who takes the invitation, curling her head into Katya’s chest. Physically and emotionally exhausted, she hears a soft voice whisper into the top of her head.  
“You’ll get out of here. I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all. Not gonna lie, I wrote chapter two at like 1a last night (this morning??) because guess what? I was depressed. But if emotional turmoil is good for nothing else, it's great for writing material. Bless everyone who commented. Y'all are the reason this fic is still going. Comment if you have opinions. Fic related or not. I love opinions on anything.


	4. Chapter 4

Trixie wakes to a soft breath on her temple. The soft scent of coconut and cigarettes fills her nostrils from the chest she’s buried her face in. She doesn’t want to open her eyes, doesn’t want to move. Just as Trixie is wishing she could fall back asleep and peacefully drift into the unknown, the figure beside her stirs. Katya’s strong arms pull her closer before stretching out far above her head.  
“Good morning, Barbie.” Humiliation and a splitting headache have Trixie burying her head in the mattress, away from Katya’s soft smile and groggy morning voice. Gentle fingertips move her hair behind her ear before dancing down her shoulder blades to draw patterns on the middle of her back. “I’m going to make coffee, if you would like some.” Katya leaves the space beside her and the bed feels so empty. Trixie doesn’t like how fitting it feels. An empty soul in an empty bed. She gathers one of the blankets around her and silently shuffles over to where Katya is, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Katya throws her a soft expression, somewhere between amused and empathetic, maybe a little of both. Energy seems to pulse through the smaller woman, even just waking up, and yet she seems settled. This is who she is, where she is, and what she does. There’s an underlying confidence and lack of shame in everything she does that Trixie finds admirable, attractive, and she wants that. The coffee maker sputters to a finish and Katya fixes two cups, setting them on the high table against the wall. She crosses over to Trixie, holding out her hands and wiggling her fingers. Trixie grasps them and is pulled to her feet with surprising strength. Katya holds onto her hand as they walk to sit at the table. It’s...nice. Comforting. Grounding. “What are you doing today?” Trixie shrugs. She’s still not sure which is worse—the stretches of several days with twelve or more hour shifts in a row, or the stretches of days without work, with nothing concrete to occupy her. “Spend the day with me.” It’s not quite a question, more along the lines of an optional statement. Trixie nods in response, sipping her coffee. Katya, it seems, is a morning person. Trixie is not. They lapse back into silence and Katya studies Trixie. The pictures on Trixie’s profile must’ve been old, she thinks. Not that Trixie is any less stunning to look at. It’s just, subtle differences. The shadows beneath her eyes. The slight divot of her cheekbones appearing in not quite as full cheeks. Skin dry and as tired as she feels inside. Lips chapped and chewed. The girl in the pictures had looked happy. Maybe it’s the early hour, maybe it’s their conversation last night, but the woman in front of her looks as though life took all she had to give and then asked for more. They finish their coffee, Trixie looking a little more alive than before.   
“Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I—“ Katya cuts her off before she can continue apologizing for all the things she has no business apologizing for.  
“None of that, mama. There’s not a single thing you need to apologize for.” Katya looks her in the eye when she says it but Trixie drops her gaze to her fingers entangling each other on the table. A third hand enters her field of vision and gives a soft squeeze. “I hope you wore your walking shoes, Barbie. We’re going on an adventure today.” She grabs both empty mugs and places them in the sink. She could do them now, but they could also be a problem for later. She chooses the latter. She tosses Trixie’s pants at her, getting an amused snort in response as the heavy fabric covers her face. They dress and when Katya comes out of the bathroom, Trixie stands in the middle of her apartment, thumbing through emails on her phone. She looks...stunning as always, and incredibly composed. If Katya hadn’t been present for the night before, she’d never guess what Trixie’s evening had consisted of. “Ready?” Trixie looks up at Katya. She still looks tired but—damn.  
“Where are we going?” Katya grins wide and waggles her eyebrows.  
“It’s a surprise.” Trixie snorts and rolls her eyes.  
“Cool. If you murder me, make sure you hide the body well. Keep the cigarettes from my pocket though. Those shits are expensive.” Katya wheezes at Trixie’s deadpan delivery as she leads them downstairs and out into the morning air.  
“You’re not opposed to getting murdered, but you want to make sure your cigs don’t go to waste?”  
“I mean it’s really a win win situation. The sweet release of death, and I’ve been trying to pawn the cigarettes off on someone for the past week but no one wants them. They really are gross though. I didn’t know what I was doing, to be honest.”  
“Last night was the first time you smoked?”  
“Excuse me, it was the second time.” Katya cackles at Trixie’s mock indignant tons, and she can’t help but laugh along.   
“If you’re that desperate, I’ll take them off your hands. I have no standards when it comes to death sticks.”  
“Oh thank god. Finally.”  
“Why did you buy a full pack if you don’t like it?”  
“I didn’t know I wasn’t going to like it! I’d never done it before!”  
“Then why do it?”  
“I wanted to try it.” Katya stares at Trixie, a little perplexed. The taller blonde glances at her before shrugging and staring off in the direction they’re heading. “It was on my bucket list for this year.”  
“Like a New Year’s resolution?”  
“That has a very positive connotation.”  
“So what else is on this list, if I may ask?” Katya studies Trixie as her gaze is fixed forward. Pink clad shoulders rise with her inhale before she forces the air from her lungs.  
“Cigarettes. Alcohol. Weed. Sex. Move.” She finally turns her head to look at Katya, who nods in response.  
“So last night—?”  
“Yeah. Sorry.”  
“Sorry?? Bitch, I made someone’s bucket list! That’s fucking lit!” Katya cackles in delight and the tension in Trixie’s shoulder eases a fraction. By the time Katya has her breath back, Trixie’s nearly smiling. “That’s quite the list, Barbie.” She shrugs. It doesn’t feel weird with Katya. She thought it would. She thought last night would be one and done, crossed off the list, never to be seen again.  
“I feel so old, but there’s so much I haven’t done. I want to know what those parts of being young and stupid feel like.”   
“Okay so—I’ve been called out. You’ve seriously not gotten drunk? What were you doing when the rest of us were fifteen, getting absolutely smashed off of vodka and fruit juice?”  
“Studying probably. I was fifteen when I earned my first college credits. Coincidentally, I was also fifteen when I was first drug tested. Hence the good old Mary Jane on the list.”  
“Alright, damn, Barbie. Brag much?”  
“I’m not bragging now am I? I’m twenty two and doing stupid teenage shit because I never got the chance to when I was an actual teenager.” Katya shrugs in agreement. She knows Trixie isn’t bragging. Her tone is too sad, too regretful to be bragging. It’s almost as if she’s mourning the youth she never had. The sidewalk opens from the woods into an abandoned playground. Katya grasps Trixie’s hand and pulls her down down the grass covered hill.  
“This is where we're going?” Katya nods.  
“No one ever comes here anymore. It's wonderfully peaceful and secluded.”   
“You should've told me to bring my guitar.”  
“There's always next time. And now you know where it is, too.” Katya leads Trixie over to the swing set, the peaceful silence only broken by the steady creaking of the swing joint.  
“I always loved the swing set growing up. There's just something about the wind rushing past you and disappearing into the sky.” Katya just listens, there's no need to respond right now. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” She reaches over and gives Trixie's hand a squeeze. The sun creeps higher in the sky, rising past the trees as they simply...exist together. Katya feels settled, focused. Trixie feels grounded. They exchange quiet, intermittent conversation. Katya learns that Trixie loves dad jokes. Trixie learns that Katya’s favorite color is red. Katya grew up in gymnastics. Trixie grew up in dance. Both still love their first form of movement, but have moved on to other forms and fallen in love with them as well. Katya does yoga at least daily. Trixie favors Graham and Fosse styles of dance. Yoga for Katya is focused, balanced, stilling. These new-to-her forms of dance are challenging for Trixie, and provide a release, a new way of moving that's harsh, angular, and strong. Both have an affinity for smoothies, and their ability to shove as many nutrients as possible into something blended and fruity. They wander down the streets of the city once the sun begins to blind them. There’s a health food shop a few blocks away, and smoothies can be lunch, right? Trixie feels more present in the simplicity of the day than she has in...months. Katya is comfortable and content in the time she spends alone, but relishes in the present company. Trixie is a perplexing, multifaceted character to observe, and she doesn't want to take for granted getting to see so many sides. Katya of all people should know the value of human vulnerability.


	5. Chapter 5

“Open up, you Russian whore. I have vodka.” Katya opens the door and Trixie storms past her. “I hope you have something to make this taste less like shit, because I forgot, and everywhere is closed.” It’s been three weeks since they met up, and while they’ve kept in casual conversation, Katya certainly wasn’t prepared for Trixie to show up at her door tonight, clad in sweaty athletic gear and indignant outrage.  
“Hey, Barbie. Nice to see you too.” Trixie glowers and rolls her eyes at Katya, who quirks the side of her mouth up as she moves to the refrigerator. “Do you want to talk about it?” She grabs a plastic cup for each of them and sets them on the table with the orange juice. Trixie nearly stomps over to join her and throws herself in the chair opposite Katya.  
“They didn’t fucking listen to me. Again. They never do. But this time, someone’s gonna get their ass beat. Someone’s gonna get hurt. And it’s going to have been entirely preventable.” She takes in the materials on the table in front of her. “I don’t know how to do this. How do I do this?” Katya knows the frustration isn’t directed at her. That fact allows her to take a step back and almost find amusement in teaching a very angry, life size Barbie how to make an alcoholic drink.  
“Alright, Barbie. Calm your tits.”  
“I won’t! I won’t calm my tits. What they’re doing is wrong. Besides, they’re great tits.” At that, Katya does let out a chuckle. Trixie opens her mouth again but Katya cuts her off before she can jump into another tirade. “I meant about the booze. I’m gonna show you what you do, and then you can rant to your heart’s content. Trixie nods, her ears tinged pink with the hint of embarrassment.  
“Sorry.” Katya shrugs and shakes her head, grabbing a cup and the bottle of cheap vodka Trixie had brought.  
“No worries here, doll. So what you’re gonna want to do, at least for now, is put a little bit of vodka in the cup, and a whole lot of orange juice.” She explains what she’s doing before sliding the cup over to Trixie before making one for herself. Trixie takes a sip, considers the drink, and adds more vodka. Katya quirks an eyebrow at her.  
“It tasted good. It wasn’t gross enough to get me drunk fast.” Katya studies her face, steam no longer coming out her ears but indignation still simmering just below the surface. She pulls a grimace as she tries the drink again, but then tips the cup up again to finish the drink as quickly as possible.  
“If that's how the evening's going to go, I'm glad you've already got your hair pulled back.” Trixie runs a hand over the top of her head smoothing some of the frizz before grasping the high ponytail where the hair tie wraps around it.  
“I went for a run when I got off work to try and chill out a bit. It didn't really work. Just gave me the gumption to actually storm over here. I probably should've messaged first but--” Trixie shrugs nonchalantly. “You could've told me to go home.” She fixes another drink as strong as the first one, not meeting Katya’s gaze. Katya sips at the cup in her hand, thankful she didn't put much alcohol in hers. Some other time they'll drink together and both have fun getting tipsy, but tonight Trixie is drinking to get drunk, and as worked up as she is, she needs Katya to be relatively sober, whether she realizes it or not. She's not quite sure when they decided Katya would be Trixie's guide for her bucket list this year, but both are thankful for the other. Despite not knowing each other long, they fit well together.  
“But I didn't. And I'm glad you're here.” She reaches over and squeezes Trixie's hand. The taller blonde gives a gentle squeeze in response, still holding onto her hand. “Tell me what happened.” Trixie blows out her breath, fixing her third drink before grasping Katya’s hand again. She plays with Katya’s fingers, speaking more to them than Katya’s face.  
“So I worked assessment tonight, right? And we were full on the unit. Like, five no roommate orders. It's nuts up there right now.” Katya nods as she listens. Trixie is passionate about her job, and people placing filling beds over patient safety will set her off in the best of times. “Anyways, we get this guy down in the ER, and I get called down to assess him. He's been upstairs before, just, antagonizing other patients and threatening staff every time, trying to pick a fight. Which, he really has no business doing in the first place. He's barely bigger than you, and like, 50. Doc says place elsewhere. He needs help but we're full. ER gets pissed because he's gonna be there a while. Management gets involved. Apparently only three of the five no roommate orders were in the computer, because two of the people were already in private rooms. Administration on call ends up coming in. Never called or anything first, mind you. I'd never fucking met the woman, so I go back to the office, and she's just there, like, what the fuck. So she calls the director of psych, who says to call the doc and get one of the no roommate orders taken off, and I'm like, hey, that's a bad idea. Those orders are there for a reason, and explain this guy's track record. But they don't listen. Because why should they listen to me? What do I know? I'm just some stupid punk kid. The pick one of the no roommates to take the order off of, which, honestly, I don’t know if they could've chosen worse. Sure, he's like 18 instead of mid 30s, but he also got out of jail on Monday for battery. Monday! Less than a week ago! For battery! Like, Jesus fucking christ, guys.” Trixie looks down at the empty cup in her hand before blinking hard and opening her eyes wide. She's most definitely intoxicated at this point. “So the AOC calls doc, and doc says sure, whatever, it's less than an hour until midnight, he wants to go back to sleep. So the AOC went home, and I got all the information passed along to all the right people, and third shift took him upstairs.” She pauses to sniff back tears, and Katya rubs her thumb over the back of her hand. “It's just--it's not fair. It's not right. It's not safe. How are we supposed to take care of people and help them heal when we knowingly put them in unsafe situations? That guy's going to get his ass kicked tomorrow, and more than likely, staff will get hurt trying to keep him and everyone else safe.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks at this point, words choked up and slurred together. “I tried my best and it wasn't good enough.” Katya stands and walks around the table, wrapping her arms around her friend. Trixie buries her face into Katya’s chest, her forehead ground into Katya’s sternum as her fists clench into handfuls of the back of Katya’s tshirt. She lets go of her sobs, anger gone, emotion pouring out of her until she is spent. “I’m sorry. It was a bad night.” Katya pulls her limp torso close again, and Trixie turns her head, snuggling close to listen to Katya’s heartbeat.  
“You did everything you could, doll. And at the end of the day, that is enough. And you're here now. It’s gonna be okay.” Trixie sniffles but doesn't move.  
“But what if it isn't okay? What if someone gets hurt.” One of Katya’s hands comes up to gently scratch into Trixie's scalp.  
“They might. I can't promise that won't happen. But there's protocols and procedures in place to prevent and minimize any of that happening. And you did everything you could to protect everyone.” She tilts Trixie's chin up to meet her eyes. “Even the guys who abuses the system and goes looking for fights. Even the guy from jail who frankly can protect himself. Even the coworkers who blame you for doing your job. No one's heart is as big as yours, babe. You did good. Now it's time to let it go.” Trixie holds her eye contact for the first time that night, eyes glassy and sad. But she nods and buries her ear back into Katya’s heartbeat.  
“Thank you.” It comes out soft and almost childlike, emotions clouding her throat again and sending the pitch high.  
“Come on. Let's get you in bed.” Katya gently tugs Trixie to her feet, but she immediately sits back down and puts her head in her hands.  
“Oh my god.”  
“How bad is the room spinning?”  
“You ever go star tipping?”  
“I have not.” Trixie doesn’t offer an explanation, focusing instead on slow, shaky breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth. “Bathroom?” Trixie nods, trembling as she takes Katya’s outstretched hand. They reach the bathroom just in time and Trixie immediately lets gravity take over. Her knees hit the tile with a force that makes Katya wince. That'll leave a bruise for sure. She gently lowers herself next to Trixie, smoothing the hairs back from her face, rubbing small circles into her back. The vomiting seems to ease and Trixie remains curled over the toilet, breathing ragged. Katya disappears from the cramped room, returning moments later with a cool glass of water. “Hey.” Her voice is soft, full of warmth. Trixie lifts her head and gratefully accepts with shaky hands, mouthing a thank you her voice doesn't want to form. “Slow sips. If you drink too fast you'll just throw up again. Trixie nods and then squeezes her eyes shut. Moving her head does not feel good right now. They sit there, legs entwined, Katya drawing soft patterns on Trixie's shin as she takes slow sips of water, until the glass is empty and the room has mostly stopped spinning. Katya sets the glass on the counter before tugging Trixie to her feet, holding her in a hug to steady her before taking her hand and leading her to the bed. Trixie sits perched on the edge of the bed as Katya grabs her the same shorts from three weeks ago. Trixie insists she can change her pants by herself, nearly toppling over as she pulls her running pants down. Katya helps her sit back down, easing her shoes off, followed by the tight pants bunched around her ankles. She guides Trixie's feet into the legs of the shorts tugging them most of the way up before helping Trixie stand again so she can pull the shorts up to where is comfortable for her. She lays down, and Katya thinks she's already asleep by the time Katya has changed into her own shorts and crawled into bed beside her. But as Katya pulls the covers over them, Trixie turns and pulls Katya close to her.  
“I’m sorry I'm a mess.” Her voice is small and sad. Katya pulls her close into her chest, where she knows Trixie has come to feel safe.  
“Hey. No apologies, Barbie. I've got you.”  
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Katya’s heart tugs as she ghosts a kiss over the soft blonde head tucked close to her. They've got each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me life. I appreciate each and every one of you. <3


	6. Chapter 6

K: come over after work?  
Trixie glances at the message that pops across her screen and can’t help the flutter of warmth in her chest. She taps out a quick response, asking if she has time to run when she gets off but absolutely will be there. Katya’s response is nonchalant, whenever she gets a chance. Time seems to pass quicker to Trixie, her run seems to be easier, before knocking on the door to Katya’s apartment. What she doesn’t expect, is Katya opening the door, dwarfed by the oversized tshirt she wears, face dry but stained with tears. Trixie steps in and holds out her arms. Katya steps into them easily, arms folded up, fists clenched tight in between their chests. She buries her face into Trixie, fresh tears soaking into her shirt. And Trixie holds her, lets her cry, one arm holding her tight while fingers of the other dance in patterns across Katya’s bony back. Without all of the strength and power, all of the energy she normally exudes, Katya feels so small in Trixie’s arms.  
Minutes pass and Katya’s quiet tears fade. She draws her head back, lithe fingers gently touching the wet spot her heartache has left. Trixie’s big brown eyes study her, concerned.  
“What’s going on, hon?” Katya shrugs in Trixie’s arms, not willing to leave their safety net yet.  
“Just...too many people. Too many people that I used to know.” She takes a deep, shuddery breath and composes herself. Trixie strokes tear soaked hairs back from where they are stuck to her cheeks, and with such a display of tenderness it is all Katya can do not to fall apart again.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Katya can’t help but shrug again. When she’s sad, or tired, she’s uncertain about everything else. It’s been that way since she was a child. Trixie takes her hand and leads her to the bed, propping herself against the headboard and pulling Katya to sit curled in her lap. Pink painted nails scratch patterns into Katya’s back, calming her, grounding her.   
“I--” Katya stops, unsure how to start. “We never dated. I’m not really the dating kind. And she knew we weren’t a thing or whatever. And I guess she just didn’t care? Maybe? And, uh, leaving her the first time was hard enough. But it was for the good of both of us. She needed more than what I could give and I would disregard all my boundaries for her because her happiness was more important to me than mine. So I just...disappeared. For like, five or six months. And then I saw her again and I thought things could be better. I thought we had both learned and grown. And for a while things were okay. They were really good. And then, yknow, they weren’t. And I knew things had to change before they got as bad as they did last time. And it turns out that change was an ending.” Katya’s face is dry and emotionless as she explains, her voice a heavy monotone, weariness etching into every part of her. “It sucks, because it was my decision. My actions. I really have no one to blame but myself.” She stays silent, contemplative. Trixie doesn’t interrupt. “I loved her, y’know? And I don’t do love.” She seems to kind of come back to herself a little more, staring into her hands instead of straight ahead into space. “Anyways all that happened today. And a kid who used to be obsessed with me was trying to hit me up again. And I saw a thing from someone I used to be really close with too. So it was just, a lot, in a very short period of time. Just kind of reminding me how alone I am? Even though I’m not really alone. And even when I am I don’t really mind it. It just...hurts. In here, y’know?” She taps her thin chest with the last comment, sad blue eyes meeting empathetic brown ones.  
“I know, hon. I know.” Trixie doesn’t have any words for how to make things better. Promising she’ll always be there will only hurt worse when one of them inevitably leaves. And she knows how bad things hurt already. So she just holds her, rocking back and forth softly, the gentle motion and the secure sound of Trixie’s heartbeat luring Katya’s sadness into a gentle calm, the hurt not gone but softened. They stay here, grounding, breathing, connecting. Gently, Katya presses a palm to Trixie’s sternum, pushing herself up to a position that’s more or less upright. She turns her head and studies Trixie’s face.  
“You came here right after you ran.” Trixie nods.  
“I didn’t want to wait to see you.” Katya doesn’t respond immediately, the words soaking into her heart and mind, but not her facial expression. She waits a beat longer.  
“You smell awful.” It takes a moment to process with Trixie, but when it does, she screams out a laugh and flails so hard Katya nearly falls out of her lap, forcing her to cling to Trixie’s neck.  
“You rotted whore! I came over at your request and you’re gonna tell me how bad I smell? You? The sweatiest woman of the city?” Trixie isn’t actually offended, and Katya doesn’t actually care what Trixie smells like, but right now they are both laughing, light hearted and joking, and it feels good. Katya stands up and wiggles her fingers and eyebrows at Trixie.  
“I have a shower here.” Trixie grasps her fingers but rolls her eyes.  
“You know just as well as I do that your shower barely fits one person.” Katya fake pouts, but Trixie can see the sadness still hiding behind her eyes.  
“I’ll just sit in the bathroom. I’ll even close my eyes while you take off your clothes.” Trixie studies her. Katya doesn’t want to be alone right now. That’s something Trixie can understand on a deeply personal level. So she squeezes Katya’s hands ever so slightly before releasing them.   
“You find a candle while I take off my clothes and get in. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” Katya’s shoulders loosen a bit as she springs off to find a candle and her lighter. When she enters the small bathroom, Trixie’s clothes are already folded on the back of the toilet and the shower has created the beginnings of condensation on the mirror.  
“I grabbed some pajamas for you.” Trixie voices her appreciation and goes back to the tune she had been humming. Katya closes the door behind her and sits on the floor against the wall, setting the candle on the lid of the toilet beside her.  
“Light the candle and hit the lights?” Katya manages not to burn her thumb as she lights the candle, before flipping the lightswitch to let the flickering flame illuminate the room, abstaining from voicing the many jokes and comments that flit through her head. “I used to just shower with the light off because I couldn’t stand the sight of myself naked. I don’t remember when I started lighting a candle, but it’s relaxing and it smells good and y’know, makes things a little less dangerous.” Katya nods, even though Trixie can’t see it, storing the information away for later. She’s right. The sound of the water mixing with the tune Trixie edges between humming and singing, the soft light of the candle--it creates the perfect amount of relaxing stimulus without being too much. Katya leans her head back and closes her eyes, floating away into the calm oasis of the small room. All too soon, Trixie has hit the water and is poking her arm around the curtain, asking for a towel. Katya hands her one but doesn’t move from where she’s seated. “I didn’t wash my hair because, frankly, I have like three times as much hair as you do and didn’t want to use all your conditioner, you frizzy beast.” She opens the curtain and sees Katya still curled on the floor. She lets out a small sigh before tugging the hand towel from the rack and dropping it over Katya’s face. The smaller girl gets the point, burying her face in the towel as Trixie dries off and dresses. There’s a tugging on the towel and Katya lets go, watching as Trixie folds it nicely before returning it to its place. This time it’s Trixie who is extending her hands, and Katya who is grasping them to stand up. The room spins slightly and she sways, holding tightly to Trixie’s hands. She steadies and Trixie wraps her arms around her lower back, murmuring slightly for her to jump. Gangly limbs wrap around Trixie as she carries Katya to the bed, laying her down gently before crawling in next to her. The roles seem almost reversed, but in a way that is very okay. They have a mutual trust and reassurance in each other, in whatever undefined togetherness they have. Tonight it is Katya’s head buried in Trixie’s chest, and Trixie’s pink lips ghosting a kiss over the dark roots growing into bleached blonde. Tonight, as always, they have each other, and tonight, as always, they’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Sup y'all. It's been a minute. Life has been a little nuts, but I hope you're all doing well. Your comments brighten my day and inspire me to turn thought bubbles into actual chapters (looking at all of you gems, but especially you CivonumisAdore).


	7. Chapter 7

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” Trixie borders on whining, red faced and sweaty.   
“It’s good for you, Barbie. And once you stop hating it, I think you’ll like it.” Katya moves to the next pose, gently explaining the movements as Trixie struggles to follow along. Half an hour and what feels like buckets of sweat later, Katya is bouncing on the balls of her feet and grinning at an exhausted Trixie. “You did it! Look at you! How do you feel?” Trixie takes a moment to just stare. Even her brain is tired.  
“I gotta go lay face down on grass.” She takes a few steps away to the shade underneath an old oak tree and ungracefully plopping on the ground before, true to her word, rolling to lay on her stomach, completely motionless. Katya grabs her backpack, pulling out two water bottles as she heads to join Trixie. She lightly taps her with the water bottle as she settles in to sit beside her.  
“Here you go, Barbie. It’ll help you feel better.” Trixie rolls over and mock glares at Katya before struggling to push herself back up to sitting. She accepts the water bottle with a nod of thanks, still remaining quiet. “I’m really proud of you.” Trixie just shrugs in response. It’s just yoga, nothing crazy. “You didn’t think you could. And you did it without once asking to take a break.” It’s really not a big deal to Trixie. She did it, but she didn’t do it well. There’s room for improvement. But Katya is looking at her so soft, her blue eyes smiling with the corners of her mouth, and Trixie’s heart gives a little. Maybe it’s not the end of the world to be a little gentler with herself. She quirks up the corner of her mouth in return.  
“I knew if we took a break, it’d be a wrap for me. And I wanted to finish all of it.” Katya grins mischievously.  
“Oh we’re not done yet.” Trixie’s eyes widen in disbelief, sending Katya into a peal of laughter. “Yoga in the park means you gotta stop and get smoothies. You just gotta. Your facial expression was great though.” Trixie snorts out a laugh as she slaps Katya's knee.  
“You’re rotted.”  
“Rotted to the core!” Katya finishes her water and stands up, tying her flannel shirt around her toned waist instead of putting it on. She’s still far too sweaty, and even if she doesn’t cool down by the time they get there, it won’t be the first time she’s walked in to get a smoothie in just a sports bra. She extends her hands to Trixie, who just stares at them before staring up at Katya’s face.  
“I don’t wanna get up.” Katya smiles at her and reaches down to grasp her hands.  
“I know you don’t. But if you don’t keep moving for a while you’re gonna regret it later.” Trixie groans as Katya pulls her up.  
“I regret it now.” Katya lets go of one of Trixie’s hands, put keeps a hold of the other as they head across the grass to the sidewalk.  
“No you don’t.” Katya grins and looks over at Trixie, who can’t help but give a small smile in response.  
“You’re right.”  
“I know.”  
“Question.”  
“Shoot.”  
“What is the difference between a margarita and a smoothie with alcohol in it?” Katya turns to stare up at the taller girl, who looks back with a completely straight face.  
“Oh my god.” She cackles and flails her available limbs.  
“What?” Trixie laughs a little at the sight of the other girl. “It’s a serious question!”  
“Where do you come up with these?”   
“They’re both blended and fruity! I just want to know if you had alcohol to a smoothie, is it a margarita?”   
“I...guess? Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t make the rules.” Trixie looks over at Katya, who simply shrugs, and nods, apparently satisfied. The health food shop appears on their right and they step into the air conditioned building, goosebumps rising across their arms. Smoothies in tow, they take the long route back to Katya’s apartment. The alleys of downtown could get them there sooner, but they have no rush to be anywhere, and the river greenway is beautiful with the late afternoon sun filtering through the trees.  
“Tell me what you dream of when you think about moving.” Trixie sighs, eyes drifting up to the tree canopy above them.   
“I dream of being on the east coast to watch the seasons change. I picture taking public transportation and walking and not needing to own a car. I think of spending Christmas stuck in a little apartment in Boston because a real northeastern storm hit. I picture wearing sweaters and sipping coffee as I walk through the city. I think about getting to be myself without worrying about what people back here might think. I dream of being able to fall in love without breaking my mother's heart. I imagine so many things. I don’t know how many of them will come true. But they're what keep me going.” Katya remains quiet, Trixie’s dreams painted vividly across her mind. She turns abruptly to look at Trixie, the details of her dreams filtering in.  
“Wait, Boston?” Trixie pulls herself out of her dreams, a slight tinge of embarrassment on her ears and cheeks. She glances at Katya before gluing her eyes to the sidewalk.  
“I mean, that's the goal. I applied for a dozen or so jobs out there. I know it sounds dumb. I don’t have any rhyme or reason. It just...feels right.” Katya squeals and squeezes Trixie's hand harder.  
“Bitch I'm from Boston! You would love it there. Oh god, I can't wait to go back.”  
“You're from Boston? How the hell did you end up here?” Trixie has always sworn once she gets out of this hell hole, there's no way she'll come back. Not for nothing, not for anyone. Katya shrugs.   
“It's really not an exciting story. My girlfriend lived a couple hours from here. We broke up. I decided to take a minute to see what the Midwest has to offer. Turns out? Not a lot.” Trixie snorts in agreement at that. “This city isn't bad though. It's kinda cozy, and eh, a little less homophobic than a lot of places around here.” Katya has come to terms with what has happened and found peace in the learning experience, but her heart belongs on the east coast. The brisk winds, the busy city...it’s home. Trixie studies Katya. There don’t seem to be regrets or sadness hidden in her features.  
“I thought you said you don't do love.” Katya shrugs and scrunches up her face for a moment.  
“I don't. But we had fun together. She was a good friend. But she, yknow, she liked me way more than I liked her. And people told me moving was a bad idea and I shouldn’t do it and I'd regret it if I did. So I did it. And I don't regret it.” Trixie nods, in awe of the lack of shame or regret Katya has.  
“You said you're going back?” Katya nods.  
“The lease on my apartment is up in September, which is perfect. Even your vivid imagination can capture how wonderful the fall is out there. You're gonna love it, Barbie.” The future seems altered, almost. Trixie had had her heart set on moving, and assumed that would mean leaving everyone here behind. It's odd. If anyone else mentioned possibly being in her life in three, four, five months time, Trixie would feel trapped. But with Katya she still feels...free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all. This chapter is a little less sad than usual. Hope you're all doing well <3 
> 
> For the yoga routine they do at the beginning...  
> https://youtu.be/5h-9pqWIkzg  
> (lmk if you try it and it also kicks your ass)
> 
> Peep UNHhhh 108 7:23 for a HQ reference
> 
> A video I found at like 3a dicking around YouTube a couple months ago and decided I really liked the yoga sequences and adapted them to do myself because I what? Need a life...  
> https://youtu.be/wnS1WcZwy5Q


	8. Chapter 8

It's 8:23a when Trixie lets herself into Katya's apartment, rehiding the spare key before locking the door behind her again. She hears Katya's soft welcome as she crosses the small apartment to the bathroom. When she comes out, work clothes have been exchanged for a tshirt and boxers, makeup has been half heartedly removed, hair rumpled down around her shoulders. Katya holds back the blankets and Trixie willingly crawls into them, burying her face in Katya's hair.  
“What's up, doll?” Katya is still half asleep as she runs her fingers through Trixie's hair, scratching along her scalp. Trixie makes a noise somewhere near Katya's ear, shoulders scrunching in a half hearted shrug. Katya gives her time, not pushing to talk, just giving her somewhere to feel okay. By the time Trixie says anything, Katya is on the brink of drifting back to sleep, and had almost wondered if Trixie had fallen asleep too.   
“I'm so tired. I wish I was better at communication. I'm not--I'm not good at my job.” Exhaustion colors each of her words, tinged with defeat. Katya hates hearing her this way, so beaten down and resigned. “I only had...three cases last night? Plus the two guys I just took upstairs but didn't have to actually do anything with. But it took four and a half hours to get paperwork from one facility. And then got disconnected with the doctor and it took four hours to get a hold of her again. And the doc in the ER is….he's not my favorite. And there's a patient they're going to hold in the ER until the psychiatrist sees him face to face, which was, a mess. And the nurse...we used to be friends, and I fucked it up, because I push everyone away from me, and he's so kind, and I regret the kind of person that I am.” She's quiet for a moment, having shifted to have her ear pressed up against Katya's heartbeat. “I gotta get out of here.” Katya's hand grazes over Trixie’s back. There's nothing she can really say right now to make things feel better, to make things hurt less. They lay there and Katya can practically hear Trixie's mind spiraling. She gently nudges the taller girl to sitting, scooting the pillow back against the headboard and grabbing her laptop. Katya sits up against the pillow and opens the laptop, tugging Trixie to come be close to her again. She opens a file folder and the screen is filled with images, some casual and candid, some artistic, some of anything and everything in between. She sets them to play in a slide show as she taps and wraps her left arm around Trixie, holding her close into the curve of her body, both girls focused on the computer screen.  
“These are from Boston.” Trixie nods slightly at the quiet explanation, and Katya dives in. Her voice is soft and even as she describes every image with a story, giving context to the still frames. The images start in the winter, a northeastern blizzard that had the city shut down for three days. Katya shows pictures of the snow on the trees outside, the empty street, the lone snow plow clearing the way for emergency vehicles, a cup of coffee sitting on a windowsill, the rising steam clearing the frosted window around it. Winter eases into spring, clear blue skies with beautiful clouds. She talks about the old brick buildings that begin to appear in the photos. The first gay bar she ever went to, and the first one she performed at on open drag night. The old library where Katya spent countless hours devouring books, soaking up information and escaping into another world. The little coffee shop she fell in love with, studying there, making friends with the old woman behind the counter. The bookstore where she used to work. Katya keeps an eye on Trixie, who's slow blinking eyes are glued to the screen, rapt in the stories. Several dozens of photos in, a few silent tears begin to trickle down Trixie's face. Katya continues on and minutes later when she glances down, Trixie is asleep on her. Her heart aches for Trixie. They both know the area Trixie worked last night is hard for her. She feels under qualified for the position because, well, she is. But they're short staffed, and Trixie is a hard worker, a fast learner, competent. And so when they ask her to work she says yes, because she cares so deeply about the staff and the patients that she can't bring herself to say no when she can help out. The staff love her because she has a level head, and everyone's best interests at heart. But all she sees is incompetence, all of the ways she doesn't measure up. Katya slithers out from behind Trixie, easing her down onto the pillow before moving to tug the blind shut, leaving the room dark enough for Trixie to sleep. She bustles around the apartment quietly, making a cup of coffee and settling in with a book. She leaves a notepad notepad and a pen on the table, knowing Trixie’s affinity for lists, sure there will be some brewing when she wakes. Katya is glad Trixie came to see her this morning. She wants to be hopeful about the future, but they are both so cautious. The idea of showing Trixie around Boston, not just from behind a computer screen...it's appealing. It's a warm thought in Katya's mind. But who is to say if that would ever be possible. Pipe dreams, maybe. The future is so uncertain, and the idea of including someone else is your plans for the future, plans that you desperately cling to, is incredibly dangerous for the heart, and so the mind does its best to protect the heart, and forget the dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's is a little short. Sorry about that. The goal is to keep them a little longer so next chapter should be back to normal. Hope everyone is doing well. Y'all have no idea how much I appreciate you guys reading and commenting. Much love <3


	9. Chapter 9

It's a week or so after Katya shows Trixie her pictures of Boston when they're sitting together, Trixie eating her dinner, Katya picking at her plate, pushing food around. She eventually gives up, setting down her fork to sip hungrily at her cup of coffee. Trixie studies her across the table, the shadows beneath Katya’s eyes and shifting fingers betraying the exhaustion stilling her usually bouncing legs that could be perceived as calm. Katya catches Trixie's glance as her eyes dart around the room, holding her gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“She asked me to marry her. For insurance purposes.” Trixie's eyes widen briefly. 

“Who did what now?” Katya swallows hard, her facial expression numb. 

“The girl I told you about. The one I never dated. The one I told I needed space.”

“She proposed?”

“That'd be a euphemism.” There's the slightest tremble in Katya’s thin hands as she unlocks her phone, sliding the messages over to Trixie. She doesn’t take it lightly, appreciating the gesture of trust, seeing in Katya's eyes that she's bone deep tired, beyond the point of caring. 

“I thought you said things were over between you two.”

“I thought they were. There was like, a day of silence and then everything got so much worse. Different from how they were in the fall, but just as bad, y’know? I'm not a person to her. I'm a creation of her imagination to be used by her.” Trixie closes out of the phone and slides it back. “She's not a bad person. She really does have a good heart. We’re just...not healthy. And I need to be me.” Katya’s nails have been chewed to the bit, the skin around them variation on raw, bloodied, and scabbed over. Trixie takes one of her hands across the table, capturing both of Katya’s smaller hands twisted together. The distraction works, and Katya stops pulling at the skin of her cuticles, stops twisting her fingers in ways they shouldn’t, and gently manipulates the flesh of Trixie’s hand.

“It’s okay to take care of you. You’re not responsible for her.”

“I’m all she has here.”

“No you’re not. She has her mom. She has that girl from high school and her entire family.”

“But--”

“No buts. She’ll be okay.” Katya studies Trixie’s hand in hers. She knows Trixie is right. She just...can’t help but worry. 

“You’re right.” Her voice comes out soft, resigned. “I just--what if she--”   
“What she does or doesn’t do isn’t up to you. You can’t force her to take care of herself. You can’t continuously abandon yourself to take care of her. She has to figure it out on her own. You’ve done enough, hon.” She stands up, tugging Katya to her feet as she does. “Come on. Grab your shoes.” Katya remains silent, shoving her feet into her shoes as Trixie grabs Katya’s keys from the dresser. She tries to still the tremble in her hand as she grasps the hand Trixie has extended to her. They pad quietly down stairs and out into the night. The city is illuminated by the street lamps at the intersections and the full moon shining overhead. Trixie takes off at a moderate pace, holding Katya’s hand and keeping her up to speed. “Did you know your girlfriend is one of the next tattoos I’m going to get?” Katya looks up at her in confusion as a smile lifts the corner of Trixie’s mouth. “The moon.” She nods up at the gleaming orb. “I want to get a red moon tattooed on the back of my shoulder. Three reasons.” They ease their pace as the street blocks pass by, Trixie’s voice flooding Katya’s ears through all of it. “One. The moon is a lesbian icon. Everyone worth listening to knows that. Two. The symbolism of a blood moon seems to be split between two concepts, the first of which is new beginnings. Opening doors that need to be open. Closing doors that need to be shut. Cathartic endings and a fresh start. Three. The other symbolic option is just, the apocalypse. The world is ending. Everything is falling apart. So, long story short, a red moon because girls, inner peace, and utter chaos.” Trixie keeps glancing over as the tension eases off Katya’s shoulders, more than a mile from home now. They loop around to head back to Katya’s apartment, their pace slowing gradually on the blocks home. Trixie falls silent for a few steps and then stops, tugging Katya’s hand to stop her as well. “I can hear your feet starting to drag.” She steps in front of the smaller girl with her back to her, placing Katya’s hands on her shoulders. Katya quietly complies, giving a small jump to wrap her limbs around Trixie. Even exhausted, Trixie can feel the strength in the thighs wrapped around her waist. Katya buries her head where Trixie’s neck meets her shoulder, gangly arms wrapped around her. Trixie sings softly as she carries Katya piggyback the last stretch to the apartment. She tugs Katya’s keys out of her pocket, careful not to run Katya into the wall of the narrow stairwell. Katya wakes up a little as Trixie gently sits her on the edge of the bed. She stays there, watching with tired eyes as Trixie moves through the apartment as easily as if it were her own. She sets a pair of boxers and a shirt next to Katya before taking her own into the bathroom. When she comes out, Katya has managed to change her shirt but is staring at the boxers with a perplexed expression. Trixie gently takes the boxers from Katya, tugging down black skinny jeans and pulling the boxers most of the way up before standing Katya up to lean against her to finish. Katya looks years younger than she is as she lays back down, while looking more worn out and exhausted than someone so young should have any reason to be. They’d left before taking care of dinner. Leftovers go in the fridge, but Trixie decides the dishes can wait. Taking care of dinner, taking care of laundry, with someone else, with  _ Katya, _ it feels oddly domestic, oddly calming to Trixie how comfortable she is here. She finishes her quiet movements throughout the apartment before flipping the lights, smiling lightly at the sight of the full moon streaming through the window. She crawls into bed next to Katya, who turns over and wrings her arms around Trixie’s neck. Shadows stand out beneath the smaller girl’s eyes, but the tension drawing her face has lessened, the exhaustion paling her face has eased. And for right now, things are okay. A slight smile crosses Trixie's face as she eases into sleep, Katya’s breath warm on her collarbone, her heart warm and full in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all. Sorry I completely forgot how to be a functioning human being for like...a week-ish? It's been a minute. I hope everyone is safe. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of suicidal thoughts. I think that's it but it's a bit of a heavy chapter

_ Trixie: on a scale of one to your fashion sense, how bad is it to kill yourself on a Sunday _

_ Trixie: I mean I guess it doesn't really matter _

_ Trixie: they all think killing yourself gets you a one way ticket to hell anyways _

_ Trixie: just add it to my list of reasons I'm going to hell it's fine  _

_ Trixie: wow I'm sorry ignore me pls _

_ Trixie: did you know know that cucumbers are actually part of the berry family _

_ Katya: come over _

_ Trixie: okay _

Katya opens the door on the first knock, leaving Trixie with her hand still suspended in midair. “You smell like smoke.” Trixie shrugs as she steps into the apartment, shedding her jacket. 

“They were still in the freezer.” She stands in the middle of the apartment looking lost. Katya locks the door and gently moves to take Trixie's hand, leading her to the small table. Trixie sits, staring at the wooden grain of the table, tracing the ridges with her eyes, hands gripping each other a little too harshly as Katya bustles about making tea. The tea kettle screams and soon after a steaming mug is set in front of Trixie. It snaps her out of the recesses of her mind and she gently wraps her palms around the mug. It's pink, Trixie’s mug. They found it on an adventure to the dollar store together; the only mug on the shelf that isn't white or off-white, and it's a violent shade of pink. Katya had been insistent on its residency at her apartment, laughing too hard at the sight of the life sized Barbie holding a bright pink mug, entirely in sync with each other, completely out of place with the rest of the bland white aisle. 

“So?” Katya gently prompts Trixie to talk, linking their ankles together under the table. Trixie shrugs, offering a quiet apology as she neglects to meet Katya’s eyes. They sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping the steaming tea, Katya studying Trixie, whose brain is simultaneously stalling and running a mile a minute. 

“I…” Trixie starts to speak but stops, clenching her jaw as she stares straight up at the ceiling. A few deep breaths and she settles for staring back at the wood grain, her voice more even than the previous squeak. “I filled out my calendar for the rest of the year.” Katya simply stares and Trixie offers a little more explanation. “I have one of those notebooks, with the dot paper? I use it for like, everything, and at the beginning of the year I only did the outline for January through July. Tonight I sketched out August through December. It doesn't even look nice yet. It’s just there. Circles around the dots that will be the intersections of lines and the numerical date on every Sunday and I just-- I--” Trixie looks down at her hands again. “My twenty third birthday is the last Monday of this year.” A beat passes. “I should probably be back in therapy.” Trixie feels stupid, sad, exhausted. She feels guilty for dragging Katya into this, too ashamed to even look at her face.

“Girl, you know I think everyone should be in therapy.” Katya’s tone is light and teasing, but she can't conceal the depth of emotion in her chest. 

“If I kill myself it'll hurt my family. It'll hurt the people I care about. It's selfish, and I shouldn't want to do it. I just-- I know that if I turn 23 and I'm still here-- I have to get out of here before then. I have to.” A gentle hand reaches across the table to lay on Trixie’s wrist and she releases her grip on the mug to hold the hand tightly. “I don't know why I cannot shake the perception of still being here as failure. There are good things about living here. I should be happy.”

Katya’s voice is low, steady, her thumb stroking the pale back of Trixie’s hand. “It's okay not to be happy. I think--” Her face scrunches as she searches for the words. “Sometimes I think trying to force yourself to be happy, or trying to pretend that you are, it just magnifies the hard feelings. It's okay to be sad. It's healthy to be sad as long as you don't wallow in it. Sadness is important for recognizing the value of happiness.” Trixie nods, contemplative. 

“I think--I don't really want to die. Like I kind of do? Like I've definitely thought about killing myself way too much. But I just, I know enough that I won't fail. Y’know? I just--I can't stay here. I have to go.” Katya can see the almost manic energy, the desperation building in Trixie’s eyes. The thought of staying here forever makes her feel trapped. The pain so evident in the eyes staring back at her shoots straight to Katya’s heart. She struggles to keep her voice and expression steady. Trixie doesn't want pity, and Katya doesn't pity her. But she wishes she could wrap Trixie up and keep her safe from the world. She wishes she didn't have to hurt the way she does. The way her peace seems so close, and yet just out of reach. Katya knows there's nothing she can say right now. So she just holds her tight as they sleep, Trixie tossing and turning throughout the night, Katya waking to pull her close again. In the morning things are muted. Trixie is shy about the events of the night before, but still exhausted and reeling from the emotions. Katya slips her black scrunchie onto Trixie's wrist, squeezing her tight one last time before she heads off to work. When she returns, hours and hours later, her energy is different. She's determined, focused.

“Can you take a week off of work?” Katya blinks up at her. 

“Like, now?” Trixie’s eyes dance as she corrects her.

“No, of course not. Mid July, I think? In like, a month.” 

“Um, probably?”

“I'm going to Boston. Would you like to come?” Trixie meets Katya's questioning gaze with determination.

“I--yeah. I'd like to come.”

“Great. I brought a notebook.” She flops the notebook on the table before pulling her laptop from her bag, setting up camp at Katya's kitchen table. “I decided killing my would be stupid and pointless. I'm going to go visit, and make sure it's where I want to go. And then if I still haven't gotten a job by September, I'm just gonna move, and I'll figure it out when I get there.” Katya settles in across the table, studying Trixie as she scours the computer. No matter how many times Katya watches Trixie pull herself together, it never fails to amaze her at the ferocity with which she does so. “We’ll go during the week, so I can hopefully, knock on wood, have some interviews. And I'd like to stay in South End, or at least visit there, because I've seen some apartments in that area that I really like. And we've got to go to Boston Commons. I want to be able to picture it as the colors change in the fall.” Katya grins at Trixie’s fierce plan, her determination to make the future her own.

“I cannot, in good conscience, accompany you to Boston without taking you to Jacques.” Trixie's small smile is blinding as she recalls Katya's stories of the cabaret. She absent-mindedly fiddles the scrunchie on her wrist as she scans the computer screen, playing with it in her fingers like she's done so often with the muscles of Katya's hand. Katya bustles around to make coffee, listening intently as Trixie rattles on about minute details for their trip to Boston. Nights like the one for before will continue to happen, but today is a better day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love and appreciate y'all. Thanks for taking the time to read. Comment because green apple skittles are better than lime skittles.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW suicidal ideation, just a lil bit though

Trixie sits at Katya's kitchen table, quietly sipping a cup of coffee. Katya can recognize the bags under her eyes, the scared, resigned, exhausted expression of spending entirely too much time thinking about dying. 

“The bars are open again.”

“Okay.”

“Come with me.”

“I don't want to drink.”

“You don't have to. Just tip well and no one cares.”

“What?”

“Come to a drag show with me.”

“Okay.” There's no emotion behind her words, hasn't been for days. She doesn't make eye contact as Katya studies her, just stares indescriptly between the wall and her coffee. Katya sighs and crosses the room to gently lift Trixie's chin with her forefinger, prompting the eye contact she's been looking for. She offers a slight smile, but simply stares back.

“I'm in the drag show tonight. Please help me.” Trixie blinks.

“Oh. Okay.” Katya extends her hands to Trixie, who sets aside the coffee mug and allows herself to be tugged to her feet. She's lost weight. Not a lot, not terribly noticeable, especially given the amount of time she spends in baggy scrubs and oversized tshirts. Katya runs her fingers over the way Trixie's collarbone sticks out where the sweatshirt hangs off her shoulder. She tugs Trixie over to the small dresser by the mirror opening the bottom drawer where she keeps her drag.

“Tonight I'm trying something, eh, a little new. Anyways, we need these titties gone, and I suck at doing it myself.” Trixie nods and listens as Katya walks her through the process, explaining as they go. She doesn't expand on the song, and Trixie doesn't ask. She seems to have a little bit more life in her, between the caffeine starting to kick in and the focus on the task Katya has given her. Once Katya is satisfied, she throws on a pair of fishnets and high waisted black shorts. She tosses a handful of stuff from the drawer into her back and zips up a hoodie over her bare bound chest. The only gay bar in town flirts with the boundary of close enough to walk but perhaps a better idea to drive. Tonight they have time, and the fresh outdoor air seeps into Trixie's senses like a drug, so they walk. By the time they step foot in the club, Trixie is more alert. Katya studies her to make sure the music provides a welcome distraction from the noise in her head, rather than over stimulating her. Trixie begins to bounce her knee in time with the beat as she follows Katya into the bathroom to do her makeup. She watches as Katya redefines her cheekbones, deepens her eye sockets, and creates a five o’clock shadow. Just as she's finishing lining her eyes with a heavy black, staring intently at herself in the mirror, she sees Trixie crack a small smile out of the corner of her eye. She pulls back from the mirror and finishes putting the makeup away.

“Like what you see, Barbie?” She smirks with the familiar nickname, and Trixie keeps her small smile, the hint of a twinkle in her eye. 

“I can't believe I knew you did drag, and I never asked to see a picture or anything. You look incredible, Katya.” Katya lets out a laugh, relief and adrenaline rushing through her.

“It's Mitya now, baby. Go grab a seat. I'll see you soon.” She grabs a couple things from her bag before handing it to Trixie for safe keeping. Trixie mock rolls her eyes as she smiles, taking the bag and leaving the room as Katya blows her a kiss. She weaves her way through the set up of tables, chairs, and barstools, the beat of the music pulsing through the floor as the lights change color. There's an open seat near the front that she claims, sipping water as she studies the people around her. Everyone looks so free. The song ends and a tall, thin drag queen with a nasally voice introduces the night. She exits and the music changes, pulsing through Trixie’s veins.

_ Time to listen to _ _   
_ _ My confession _ _   
_ _ I'm much less than _ _   
_ _ I wanted to be wanted to be _

Katya storms onstage, doc martens pounding into the dirty club floor. At some point she replaced the hoodie with a leather jacket, wrists bound with a pair of plastic handcuffs, black straps across her chest. Trixie is entranced with the way she commands the room, far more powerful than her 5’2 stance would seem. 

_ Why don't you _ _   
_ _ Lock me up with joy and kisses? _ _   
_ _ Lock me up with love? _ _   
_ _ Chain me to your heart's desire _ _   
_ __ I don't want you to stop

She barely has time to think before Katya stomps over to her, throwing her handcuffed wrists around Trixie's neck and dancing on her lap. Her face is serious and seductive, but there's a familiar twinkle in her eye, just for Trixie, who can't help but laugh. There's a lightness in her chest as Katya moves on and finishes the song, locking eyes with Trixie for the final lyric. 

_ Lock me up _

And with that everyone is cheering, and there's a blinding smile on her face as Katya leaves the stage. Moments later she's hurrying across the room to plop into the chair Trixie has her ankle hooked around, saving it specifically for her. Off stage, back in a hoodie, no longer clad in leather, bondage, and handcuffs, Katya seems to be demoted to a mere mortal again. But there's still that twinkle in her eye, the rush of adrenaline, the confidence. Trixie loves to see it, and she wants to be a part of it. She reaches over to squeeze Katya's hand, who in turn entwines their fingers. Performer after performer cycles on and off the stage until the show is over and they leave, sweaty hands still locked together. 

“So what did you think, Barbie?”

“Bitch you were incredible.”

“Shut up, I meant about the show in general.”

“Fantastic, but not enough drag kings.”

“Gonna do anything about that?” Trixie turns to look at Katya, meeting her smirk and quirked eyebrow with a small smile of her own. 

“Yeah. I think I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all. I had fun with this. Comment if you've ever done drag, what your drag name is, or if you have strong feelings about cookie dough.


	12. Chapter 12

Trixie studies Katya's face, her clear blue eyes focused on the task at hand, and in turn, Trixie's face. She's gentle, precise, deliberate. Katya has her turned away from the mirror, but Trixie trusts the movements she feels. The brush swipes across the bottom edge of her cheekbone, straightening it's downward slope. Her cheekbones are more defined than they once were. Katya is close enough for Trixie to inhale the blend of three in one coconut shampoo conditioner body wash (it's  _ efficient _ ) and the hint of musky perfume and the slight remnants of her last cigarette. It's intoxicating. It's grounding. Katya leans back, eyes scanning Trixie’s face before turning her towards the mirror. It's Mitya painted on Trixie, and there are changes and tweaks to be made before it's who Trixie wants, but it feels so  _ right.  _ She can't stop staring at herself, mind whirring with possibilities. A small smile creeps onto her face and she doesn't try to stop it. Katya comes up behind her again, tying a bandana around her hairline. 

“You like it?” There's hesitancy in her voice, and Trixie turns her head to meet Katya’s eyes.

“Bitch you rearranged my bones.” She turns back to the mirror, taking in her face from every angle. “I fucking love it.” Katya's face breaks into a wide smile as she throws her arms around Trixie's neck. They look in the mirror, faces pressed cheek to cheek, Mitya next to someone who has yet to be determined, and they both look happy. After around few moments, Katya pulls back, patting Trixie on the shoulder as she walks away.

“Come on, Barbie. We've got things to do.” Before she can get more than a step away she feels a gentle grasp on her wrist.

“Wait. Let me take a picture first?” Katya mock rolls her eyes at Trixie as she allows their faces to be pulled closer together again. Trixie snaps at a series of pictures on her phone, smiling, serious, smolder, goofy, until they're both shaking with laughter and all the pictures are turning out blurry. Katya pulls herself together first, sighing as she gets up to wash the makeup off her face. Trixie patters into the bathroom behind her to do the same, fake pouting in the mirror before falling back into giggles. It feels too easy, crowded next to each other in a small bathroom, sharing an even smaller mirror. There’s no real reason or explanation for why Trixie holds onto Katya's hand as they walk back to the kitchen, making tea before settling at the table across from each other, laptops almost bumping edges on the small table. 

“Okay so” Trixie looks over at Katya, breathing in deeply as she pauses.

“So” Katya prompts her to continue. 

“We need to get out there, we need somewhere to stay out there, and we need to get back. Everything else we can take care of when we get there. Right?” Katya offers a reassuring smile to ease Trixie's nerves. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Trixie's shoulders ease back a little, tension at the task at hand, at all of its implications, radiating through her.

“It's cheaper and faster to take a train from here to Boston than a bus. The train leaves at 01:20a though, and the nearest station is about forty minutes north of here.” 

“Waterloo?”

“Yeah.”

“We're listening to ABBA on the way to the station.”

“Not if I jump into oncoming traffic first.” Katya shrieks with laughter, Trixie following in suit.

“ABBA is not that bad! You like them! They're  _ good! _ ”

“I know they are! But how on the nose is it to listen to Waterloo on the way to Waterloo?!”

“Doesn't mean it's not worth it Barbie.”

“Oh my god fine. Whatever.” She rolls her eyes in jest, fighting the smile that plays at the corners of her mouth as she returns to the computer. 

“One bed or two?”

“One? We share a bed enough and it's generally cheaper than two.” Katya turns her computer for Trixie to see, photos of apartments and rooms pulled up to rent for a week. They scroll through, sipping tea in silence. Too expensive, too far from downtown, just plain sketchy looking to be quite honest. “That’s not called the pistachio room. It's not.”

“It absolutely is. Look at those fucking walls.”

“We've gotta stay there. It's even got the meme factor.” Katya raises her eyebrows at Trixie, who shrugs and sips her tea.

“It's cheap. It's convenient. It's fucking pistachio green.” The smaller blonde snorts out a laugh, sending the taller of the two into peals of laughter. In the end they decide to split the trip in two, the first half in a room with bright red accents close to the Freedom Trail, the latter in the so-called pistachio room. Trixie carefully jots down the details of each room as well as their trains. They check their emails for confirmations, Katya for the rooms and Trixie for the trains.

“We're really going to Boston.” Katya looks up from her phone to see Trixie staring at her, hope and excitement twinkling in her eyes. At that she can't contain her own excitement, her face breaking into a painfully wide grin as she nods and grasps Trixie’s hand.

“We're going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little all over the place but a little less sad today. Comment if you like the idea of Trixie developing a drag king, if you think they should do burlesque, or if you really just want to punch a nazi.   
> Hit me up on insta @maybeitsmichah if you want to see drag shit or twitter @queerfeareli for all sorts of shit. I'm bored and lonely.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nowak: pronounced no-vack, meaning new

“Are you sure I look okay?” Nervous tension lines Trixie's shoulders as Katya finishes lining the bottoms of her eyes. The crisp black just along the bottom makes Trixie’s eyes look less wide and doll like, and she loves the intensity of it. She could line her own eyes, but her hands won't stop shaking, and having Katya so close is grounding.

“Absolutely smoking, Barbie.” Katya finishes and Trixie checks herself in the mirror, tugging a little at the bandana folded and tied around her hairline. The white fabric looks almost light blue in the dim neon light of the club bathroom. Gentle fingers entangle her own, bringing Trixie out of her thoughts. Katya smiles at their reflections side by side in the mirror; Katya in the same doc martens, this time with tight black pants and a dark galaxy print jacket thrown over a black v-neck, Trixie in her beat up converse, tight ripped jeans, and a plain white tee under a black leather jacket. Trixie squeezes Katya's hand and the turns to beam up at her, lights twinkling off the tiny silver stars Trixie painted on her face. “You're gonna do just fine.” She gives a small smile as she runs a gentle finger along the edge of Katya's collarbone where it sticks out of her shirt. Despite the nerves, she has to admit she looks fierce, hair pulled back in four tight dutch braids, darker colors than she would normally wear, face painted in a razor sharp contour. “Go grab a seat. I'll be out soon.” Katya squeezes her hand one last time before reaching up on her toes to press a kiss behind Trixie’s ear, careful not to smudge either of their makeup. Trixie's thankful for the dark lighting and the heavy makeup as she walks out to the table they've more or less claimed as their own. The dance music fades out and the conversation of crowd dulls before Mitya jumps out onstage, energy cranked from the get go.

_ It's so fake, this world of ours _ _   
_ _ More satellites than shooting stars; they're all around _ _   
_ _ Yeah, their broken hearts on the boulevard _ _   
_ _ You know this world will leave you scarred and let you down _

He bends and contorts, enchanting the audience with a reckless intensity, mouthing along to the rapid lyrics. 

_ By leaving here with you, one of you will be living on the dark side _ _   
_ _ Yeah, right here, right now, we'll leave this crowded room _ _   
_ _ I'll take your body to the moon _

He arches into a backbend, arms moving fluidly around his body before his shoulders hit the ground. Trixie watches in awe, thinking to herself she'll never tire of seeing Mitya perform. He flips around on the ground, exploring all levels--floor, knees, standing. The number is over too soon for Trixie's liking, and her anxiety is beginning to return by the time Katya slips into the seat next to her, entangling their fingers and giving her a blinding smile. They whoop and holler and tip as the night cycles through performers. Night turns into early morning and people begin to shuffle out a few at a time. Katya squeezes Trixie's hand as the clock ticks past 1a. She can feel Trixie's anxiety skyrocketing as one of the resident drag queens announces the first performer of the open stage portion of the night. A tall drag queen lip syncs to a rock song, frozen with nerves. A drag queen stands up and does a few lines of comedy, turquoise hair falling in her face. And finally…

“And our final contestant of the night...Nowak!” His legs shake as he steps up on stage, the beat of the song beginning to pound through the room.

_ One step forward, one step backwards _ _   
_ _ One step forward, one step backwards _

He follows the instructions of the music, well rehearsed, anxiety falling away as the adrenaline and endorphins rush in, confidence in embodying the character.

_ Some days I'm up, some days I'm down _ _   
_ _ Some days the world is way too loud _ _   
_ _ Some days my bed won't let me out _ _   
_ _ But I'm okay with missin'... _ _   
_ _ Out on the social anxiety _

Intensity courses through his veins, the audience rapt and engaged. There's more than a little graham style dance movements in the choreography, paired with movements he hopes come off as cool and sexy and not just uncomfortable, but to be honest, a little awkwardness fits the song.

_ So I just, so I just _ _   
_ _ Do my little lonely dance _ _   
_ __ Performing for my only fan

He locks eyes with Katya, sitting in the audience beaming as Nowak oozes confidence, the audience eating him up. He didn't realize how many people were still left in the small bar until the majority of them are holding out dollar bills and the only thing he can think is, I didn't choreograph for this. But he makes it work anyways, dropping the tips on the stage before jumping onto the intense choreography at the end. The music ends and reality rushes back in. He can't help the wide grin that glues itself on his face as he exits the stage. Katya is waiting immediately off stage, bouncing on the balls of her feet before flinging her arms around Trixie’s neck.

“Oh my god you were incredible. They  _ loved  _ you.” She gushes to the taller blonde, who cannot stop smiling. They call the three performers from the open night to the stage, the last of whom trying not to quiver with anxiety. The lone drag king onstage feels like the seconds are hours and then...he won. He's given a $50 certificate for alcohol he knows he'll never use, and that will honestly end up saved in Trixie's apartment, paperclipped to the eleven dirty one dollar bills. They all file offstage and Trixie almost cries with disbelief and just, happiness. 

“I did that. I really just did that.” Katya laughs and squeezes her hand as Trixie feels her face is about to split in two.

“Yes you did. You did so well. Now let's go give these home dogs your digits and get you home, Barbie.” She takes Katya’s outstretched hand and they stop to talk to the bartender before stepping out into the crisp night breeze. Trixie thinks maybe the city is prettier when it's lit up but street lamps and stop lights, when it feels as though they're the only two in the world. This early in the morning, the only thing that matters to Trixie is the bliss of accomplishing something she didn't think she could, and the feeling of Katya's hand entwined with her, beside her step by step as they walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy y'all this was actually super fun to write. Also, if you have a better drag name for Trixie, please pls plz comment. I hope you are all doing wonderful, and I hope this stupid ass Midwestern town I live in gets its shit together and stops covid numbers from spiking again so we can have drag shows (and also like, the health of the general public yknow, but that's already understood). Comment if you loved it, if you hated it, or if you only recently started listening to Fletcher but have already listened to her music entirely too much.


	14. Chapter 14

“What if they never hire me? What if we go to Boston and we waste a whole week because I can’t land an interview?” Trixie’s deep brown eyes are wide with anxiety as she begins to spiral. Katya bends down to be level with her, face to face, eye to eye.

“So we go to Boston for a week and we have fun, we relax, we get out of town for a while. That’s all.” She can see that Trixie’s eyes aren’t focusing on her, darting everywhere and then stilling as her brain continues to whir.

“Why am I not good enough?” It comes out as a whisper, breaking Katya’s heart. She gently untangles Trixie’s fingers from where they’re tense and knotted in her hair, guiding her arms to wrap around her waist as she pulls the taller blonde close to her. She can feel the tremors coursing through Trixie’s upper body as her arms latch tightly around Katya’s trim waist. The dining room chairs are just tall enough for Trixie to bury her ear into Katya’s heartbeat as she stands beside her. The coffee pot is empty and there are deep circles beneath Trixie’s tear soaked eyes.

“C’mon. You’ve been sitting here too long. Let’s go to bed.” Trixie is slumped against her in exhaustion, tremors stilled and tears dried, by the time Katya pulls back to take her by the hands.

“I don’t want to go to sleep.” Katya studies her. She needs rest, but she maybe not while her brain has convinced her that she’s worthless, a failure. So she drops a gentle kiss to Trixie’s forehead and releases her hands, loosening the laces in Trixie’s shoes as she sits there, a mere shell of her personality. But when the beaten up converse are held in front of her, Trixie takes the shoes and slips her feet in, tying the laces on autopilot. The night is warm, a slight breeze blowing away the mug from earlier as they venture through the city. Katya keeps a hold of Trixie’s hand, holding tight when they approach stoplights until Trixie is present enough to take in the world around her. Street lamps and the moon light the way as they loop back around the city to Katya's apartment. Trixie sits down almost immediately, flopping face down on the bed fully clothed. A gentle prodding convinces her to at least put on pajamas, forgoing a shower until the morning. Katya crawls into bed and wraps her arms around Trixie, who turns to burrow her head into Katya's chest. Katya dozes in and out of sleep as Trixie twists and turns. When the morning comes, Trixie is first out of bed, slumped bonelessly at the table after starting the coffee brewing. By the time it sputters to a finish, Katya is up and joining her in the kitchen area. Elbows bump as they make their coffee too close to each other, lacking spatial awareness early in the morning but seeking the comfort of the other. They sit at the table together and Trixie pulls her laptop in front of her from where it’d been pushed to the side, unlatching the edge to open it. Katya quietly reaches over and pushes the computer shut again, the click of the latch the only sound in the small apartment. Trixie fixes her with a look but Katya leaves her hand where it is, holding the laptop shut. 

“Not today, not right now.” Trixie’s eyes are glassy at Katya's soft words, at the care evident in her face and her voice.

“I have to get out of here.” Katya moves her hand across the computer, grasping one of Trixie’s as desperation cracks her voice. 

“I know. And you will. But right now you've done enough. There's not a hospital in Boston you haven't applied to. Everything will still be there tomorrow. But leave it alone today.” Trixie resigns her grasp on the edge of the computer, tangling her fingers with Katya's and sipping coffee with the other. Silence passes between them for a few minutes.

“So what do I do today?”

“I've been thinking--”

“Oh no.” Katya snorts out a laugh and Trixie's eyes twinkle a bit.

“Wow. Okay. Anyways, you're here like, 90% of time you're not at work.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“Move in here.” Katya's expression is hesitant. Trixie's face is unreadable.

“Oh.” Katya fears maybe she said the wrong thing, maybe this is messing things up, maybe Trixie doesn't want to move in with her, maybe Trixie doesn't want anything to do with her. “Today?” Trixie's voice pulls her back from her spiraling thoughts. 

“I mean only if you want to.” Katya's voice shakes and Trixie nods.

“Most everything is in boxes already anyways. I'll pay the rent due soon and tell them it's the last one.” She turns to look at Katya fully. “Are you sure?” Katya nods. This has been on her mind for a while now. She's rarely as sure as she is about this. “Okay. Let me know rent and electricity and we'll split it.” Katya lets out a sigh of relief and Trixie offers a small smile as she squeezes her hand. She knew Trixie wouldn't live here officially without paying the bills. She's far from surprised about that. While Katya had been very sure about asking Trixie, she'd been incredibly nervous about the answer. She feels like she's floating as she drags Trixie by the hand to her old car.

"You moved across the country in this?" It doesn't look like much, but it's been with Katya long enough that she's become fond of it.

"Yup. Fun fact: you can fit a full sized concert harp in the front passenger seat."

"You play the harp?"

"God no. Absolutely not. I'm not that musically inclined nor can I sit still for that long. But it was a pretty common review when I was looking at moving across the country. And it was cheap-ish. I can't wait to not need a car again." The drive to Trixie's apartment is only a few minutes and then they're cursing the summer heat as they bring what Trixie already has packed down to the car. The small apartment is mostly empty by the time the sun sets and they head back to Katya's. Trixie's heart feels at some sort of peace, one hand holding Katya's, the other hanging out the window. Sometimes the future feels so far out of reach, but sometimes, the right now is okay enough to get her there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all. Guess who got a new phone and actually has internet access again. Comment if you're a long sleeves/long pants year round gay, a shorts/short sleeves year round gay, or a gay who actually dresses for the weather (do those even exist?). Y'all make my day.


	15. Chapter 15

"Fuck!" Trixie stares at the phone in her hands, shoulders taut.

"What happened?" Katya crosses their apartment to peer over the taller girl's shoulder.

"I missed a call from Boston Medical Center." Katya looks at Trixie, who's begun to quiver and pace with nerves, and back at the phone now laying on the bed.

"That's a random number with a Boston area code. That's Boston Medical?" Trixie shrugs as she turns back to pick up the phone.

"I've applied for a lot of jobs there. It's posted on their website. It's not like I meant to memorize it." She perches on the edge of the bed with ramrod straight posture. Katya sits next to her, one leg tucked under her as she drags her fingertips across Trixie's back.

"Call them back." Trixie nods quietly and follows her suggestion, leaning back slightly into Katya's grounding touch. She pulls the phone back to press a button before holding it to her ear again, exhaling through her nose in frustration less than a minute later. She tries again, with the same result.

"I can't get anyone but an automated line." 

"Try asking the operator who you need." This time she gets through to a voicemail, leaving a hurried message of her name and number, a quick apology for an unworking voicemail on her phone, a self depricating laugh. And then it's done. She stares at the phone in her hands, willing him to call back.

"I'm gonna fuck it up because I don't know how to leave a proper voicemail." Katya loops her arms around Trixie's shoulders, and the taller blonde lets herself be pulled into a hug, muscles limp without the pulse of anxiety.

"No you're not. It's gonna be fine." 

"I don't even know what job he's calling about." 

"Check your email." Nothing. "Give it time. It'll work itself out. If they're interested enough to call you, they aren't gonna give up because you missed one phone call." Trixie shrugs in Katya's arms.

"You never know. They might." Katya gives her a tight squeeze for a moment before standing up.

"They won't. C'mon. We're not going to sit staring at your phone all day. Turn the volume up and let's go do something." Trixie stares at her, unconvinced that waiting for a call back shouldn't occupy the rest of her day. Reluctantly, she reaches out to take Katya's hands and quickly gets pulled to her feet. "Put on your walking shoes, Barbie. We can get iced coffee on the way." There's a new coffee shop not far from Katya's apartment that she's been meaning to try, but doesn't see the point in going out for coffee alone, unless she's staying to utilize the wifi or something. However, a walk along the greenway with Trixie is a perfect excuse. There's a slight breeze outside, and new flowers are in bloom from the last time they walked this path, but half of Trixie's mind and attention are stuck on the possibility of a phone call. When they return, she checks her email again to see a message from the man she left a voicemail for. Her heart pounds as she types out a short response. Yes, she currently lives in Indiana, but will be relocating to Boston, MA soon. Sleep doesn't come easy for Trixie, tossing and turning and waking up to pace. In the wee hours of the morning, she climbs out of bed, whispering softly for Katya to go back to sleep. She tugs on her running shoes and a t-shirt, grabbing her headphones as she heads out into the night. The fresh air barely brings her out of her head, thoughts still whirring but feeling less trapped. The job she heard back about is far from her dream job, but it would get her out there. What if once he learns she is indeed still in Indiana, she's no longer considered for the position? A young man in a truck shouts at her and Trixie briefly stares back at him before turning to face straight ahead again. He looks like a patient who'd had issues with her on the unit recently. Outside of work, there's no rules stopping her from shouting back at him, but it's just...not worth it. Trixie works in the field she does to help people, and has learned she has no time for people who abuse the system and stir up trouble, all while occupying a bed that could be used by someone who actually needs and wants the help. By the time she crawls back in bed with Katya, she's walked three miles and finished boxing up the very last of her apartment, adding a few more people to the list of patients she's seen on her walks and runs around town. Katya turns over in her half sleep and loops an arm around Trixie's neck as she's wondering whether a less than satisfying job would be worth the fresh start with a clear difference between work and home. Her legs are finally exhausted, and Trixie lets her body sink into the mattress next to Katya, close enough to feel her slight breath on the arm she has tucked under her head. She focuses on that, on Katya's breath on her arm, the scent of Katya's soap, the weight of Katya's arm on her neck, and tries to ignore the tumultuous nature of her current future. She grounds herself in Katya, and it lures her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day? Yes I'm currently full of angst. Comment whether it's appropriate or not to caress and then smack your own ass during a drag number on the lyrics 'stay soft but don't be gentle.' As always, asking for a friend.


	16. Chapter 16

The door latches behind her and she closes her eyes, the tears she's been breathing down entire walk home finally leaking out. She takes a deep breath, trying not to shake as she swallows the tears back again. Katya sits at the table, looking up from her computer but Trixie doesn't meet her eyes. She walks past, filling her water bottle up in the sink, lost in her thoughts until a pair of wiry arms wrap around her waist and the tears win again. Setting the bottle aside and turning off the water, she turns around in Katya's arms to hug her back, clinging to her as tears tremor through her. Katya holds her, lets her cry, gently running her fingers up and down Trixie's back.

"What's up, Barbie?" The gentle question, barely above a whisper, low voice heavy with concern and care brings a fresh wave of tears, clinging to Katya even harder than before. Katya almost misses the broken whisper, voice tight and shaking.

"Why does it all have to hurt so much?" The ache is so deep her heart feels like it's physically breaking as Katya brings a gentle hand to the back of her head. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she knows she feels sticky with sweat and must smell terrible, but if it bothers Katya she doesn't show it. She doesn't ask questions, doesn't try to give false answers, just waits as Trixie cries. The tears subside to quiet sniffles and Trixie pulls back, trying to shake the tension and sadness out of her hands. She bustles around the apartment as Katya watches, grabbing the old tank top and shorts she tends to sleep in and heading for the small bathroom. She pauses at the doorframe, turning back to look at Katya, the unspoken question written on her face. The smaller blonde crosses the apartment to join her, lighting the candle they now keep in the bathroom as Trixie undresses behind her. "I told Ms. Elizabeth I'm trying to move." Katya barely hears the quiet words before the shower curtain is pulled and the water beats down, filling the silence. She sits in her customary position beside the tub of the shower. The rushing of the water almost masks the sniffles and ragged breathing. Almost. There's a squeak and a rustle of the shower curtain and a wet hand reaches out, trembling. Katya takes the hand in her own and feels the strength in the grip. Trixie sits on the floor of the shower, curled in a ball, head buried in her knees with her free arm shielding her face, Katya's grounding grasp the only thing keeping her from completely dissolving. The family Trixie found at dance gave her a home, a place to belong. Rehearsals had only just begun again, altered, after being abruptly halted for almost four months. Trixie had been dreading this day for months. The one thing she desperately doesn't want to leave in this god forsaken town. It hurts. Almost doubly so as there feels like a distance since they've started back again, a distance Trixie'd only begun to bridge in the last few months before they shut down. All the progress she'd made--social and physical--feels like it's been obliterated. She can feel the abuse she's put her body through in the past four months, that she doesn't quite know how to stop. She thinks about moving, and she thinks about Katya, and she tries to push the thoughts of how much easier it would be to just give up out of her head. The shakes are beginning to subside for now and her hand has gone limp in Katya's. She stands and the room spins and goes black for a moment before her vision clears again. She turns off the water and Katya silently hands her a towel that she dries with before wrapping around herself. She can feel Katya's eyes on her as she steps out of the shower and thinks she must look a mess, eyes red and puffy above the bags, hair frizzy and coming undone. Katya takes in the way Trixie's posture has contoured with anxiety and exhaustion. Her shoulders are tense and hunched, the top of her spine curved forward, as if the effort to stand tall and confident is so far out of reach. She runs a gentle fingertip along Trixie's collarbone, trailing down her arm, wishing she knew how to help calm everything in Trixie's mind. Katya leaves and Trixie dresses, avoiding the mirror, not noticing how the clothes hang looser than they did the first time she wore them in front of Katya, back before she'd moved in, when she'd only just begun to leave clothes at Katya's in anticipation of returning soon. She crawls into bed, clinging to the pillow, facing away from where Katya has resumed her work at the table. The bed sinks slightly behind her and she buries her face further into her arm, a mix of shame, exhaustion, being alone, and overwhelming sadness coursing through her, weighing her down. Nimble fingers undo the braid her hair is falling out of, gently scratching her scalp and tugging ever so slightly as they run through it. The sensation keeps Trixie out of her own head long enough to lull her to sleep. Katya sighs as she looks down at the younger girl. Even in her sleep she looks so sad these days. She eases off the bed and returns to where her computer sits on the table. Nothing on the screen comes close to holding her attention for any amount of time so she decides to take a break from work, taking care to be as quiet as possible as she moves around the kitchen area, gathering food and utensils. The eastern european soup comes together quickly and she covers the pan with a lid, turning off the heat. When Trixie wakes she'll set it to summer for a few more minutes. Until then, she'll wait, and she'll watch, work open in front of her but her attention in bed with younger blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all. I completely forgot I was on the schedule to work a different area tonight and got here ten minutes late, fourteen minutes after my coworker texted asking where I was. Comment if you drink coffee, how you take it, and your thoughts on coffee ice cream. 
> 
> The soup Katya makes, if anyone's interested...  
> Lecsó  
> 1/2 onion, chopped  
> 1/4 c water  
> 1 red/orange bell pepper, diced  
> 2 tomatoes, diced (or 4 roma tomatoes)
> 
> Saute onions with water until translucent. Add pepper and tomatoes. Cook down while stirring frequently. Once it resembles a stew, let simmer and stir occasionally until it's as thiccc as you want. Salt to taste.


	17. Chapter 17

Trixie's hands tremble as she grasps tightly to the half empty thermos of coffee. Katya glances over, reaching out one hand to tug at one of Trixie's long fingers as she focuses back on the road. The taller blonde relents, grasping Katya's hand tightly in hers, quiet as a blend of excitement and nervousness pulses through her.

"Hey Barbie, turn on the music?" Trixie quietly nods and pulls out her phone, plugging in the aux cord and setting the playlist to go. 

_ My my _

_ At Waterloo Napoleon did surrender _

Katya breaks out in a wide grin, joining in on the next line, terribly off key.

_ Oh yeah _

_ And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way _

Trixie presses her lips together, trying to stop the quiver in her jaw as she stares at Katya, eyes wide and glassy.

_ The history book on the shelf _

_ Is always repeating itself _

_ Waterloo I was defeated, you won the war _

_ Waterloo promise to love you for ever more _

_ Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to _

_ Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you _

_ Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo _

The song feels more significant than it has any reason to be as Trixie joins in with Katya, dancing in their seats, tears rolling down Trixie's face even as she laughs. The song plays through as street lights pass in a blur. There's a moment of silence before the next song starts and Trixie finds Katya's hand again, grasping it with both of hers, pulling it close to her chest.

"We're on our way to Waterloo, to get on a train, to visit Boston, where I have my second interview for a position on Wednesday." Katya squeezes her hand tightly as she nods, eyes sparkling as she smiles. "It's gonna be okay."

"No matter what happens this week, it's going to be okay. Everything's going to be just fine." Trixie stares at the coffee cup held between her thighs as she plays with Katya's hand.

"I don't know why I believe you, but I do. Well, the part of me not overwhelmed with anxiety believes you." Katya nods solemnly, thinking over her response.

"That other part doesn't get to have a say right now. If you get the position Wednesday, that's amazing, wonderful, I'm so proud of you. If you don't get the position, we have fun getting out of the Midwest for a week. I show you the places in Boston I love. We come back and we keep trying. And I'll still be so proud of you." Trixie sniffs as she tries to hold back the tears, trying instead to let all the fears and worries flow out of her as let Katya's words sink in. It feels like there's so much riding on this trip. What if she hates Boston? What if she doesn't get the job? What if it goes well and she does get the job? What then? What if she takes the job and it's not what she thought it'd be and she hates it? What if eight hour rotating shifts are even worse than twelve hour night shifts? "I think I can hear your brain whirring with how fast your thoughts are spinning through your head." The gentle words pull Trixie out of her head as Katya leaves the air open, not pushing her to talk, but giving her the space to if she wants. 

"I'm just-- there's--" She takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling of the car. "This trip could change so much. I'm hoping that it changes everything. But I'm also terrified. And I don't know if I'm more scared of things going well or things going poorly. I'm just...so tired, and so scared, and so tired of being scared. I-- I don't want things to be easy, because some things are worth working very hard for and that important, but I just, I wish I didn't have to fight with my brain every step of the way, y'know?" Trixie holds Katya's hand limply in her lap, face tilted towards the ceiling, eyes shut.

"I know, hon. I know." Katya's thumb ghosts circles on the back of Trixie's hand as tears spill silently down the younger girl's cheeks. She takes in small glances of Trixie as they pass under streetlights. Without the fullness of her cheeks, her face would look gaunt. Shadows stand out beneath her eyes. The lower half of her face is breaking out while the skin on her cheekbones is dry from how often it's been washed, scrubbed raw, exfoliated to try and combat the gross feeling of her own breath rebounding on her face and the humid heat outside. Her cheekbones stand out more than they used to; her collarbones, too. Katya's heart aches for the girl beside her. The other day they had been sitting at the table, enjoying a cup of coffee together before Trixie went to work. She'd rubbed her eyes, dry and puffy with exhaustion, and told Katya she was beginning to feel more and more like a shell of herself. They'd finished their coffee together, and Trixie had gotten dressed and ready for work. Katya had pulled her in for a quick hug before she'd stepped out the door and could've sworn she'd felt the steel in the taller girl's spine. It'd been a long thirteen hours before Trixie had crawled into bed with Katya, freshly showered after a run, open and vulnerable, walls down just for her. It's hard for both of them, but they have each other, and Katya believes for both of them, in the end it will have been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's been a minute. Sorry about that. Life got busy, but in a good way I think. Anyways, I hope everyone's been doing well. <3
> 
> The playlist they listen to...  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/33TjXvaOvGieoEfr9G1iIZ?si=v6aJrQbKRLONufqET5SBCw  
> \+ You Were Cool (The Mountain Goats) and Goner (Trixie Mattel) but neither are officially recorded or on Spotify but you can find them on YouTube and I highly suggest it as I love both songs


	18. Chapter 18

"I don't want to go home." It's a hushed whisper, with Trixie's face buried in the crook of Katya's neck. The smaller blonde holds her tight as she feels a tear drop onto her bare skin of her shoulder. The past handful of days has been just as exhausting as it's been exhilarating. Katya doesn't usually have such a front row seat to how much Trixie will push herself despite being exhausted in all senses of the word. They've been what feels like everywhere the past few days, leisurely strolling the streets of Cambridge, speedwalking with iced coffee through Fenway, shrieking and giggling as they run from the geese by Jamaica Pond, clinging tight to each other's hands as they walk Mass Ave past Boston Medical Center, where Trixie most hopes to get a job but is also in the least safe area of town they've been to. 

"It's just for a little while. One last hurrah." She tries to sooth the younger girl but there's more Katya can see brewing in her head, yet to be spoken. 

"My dad mentioned if I don't come home for Christmas, they'll just come out here." Katya hasn't met Trixie's family, intentionally. Trixie's family doesn't know much about Katya, and most of what they do know is a lie. They don't know her name. They think she's a girl named Katie, that Trixie works with. They don't know how close they are. Katya only knows because of the day Trixie had broken down in tears, exhausted from visiting her family, for performing for them. It's not that there's no love there for her. There is love, but it's oh so conditional. And if Trixie--no, Bea-- fails to meet those conditions, well then, there is no love. Every bit of disgust and hatred they show towards people and ideas and they have no idea it cuts her to the bone. "I just want some space. I can't have them follow me across the country." Her breath shudders as waves of self hatred and disgust flow over her. "I think, if I could never be free, I'd have to kill myself." Katya is silent, listening, gently running her nails along the taller blondes back, dragging across the back of her ribcage up to her shoulder blades and back down again. "I hate that this is what my brain jumps to. It's not reasonable. It's not logical. There's other steps that should be taken first." She breathes a beat. "I should be back in therapy." There's a resigned tinge to the admission. It took time for Trixie to let Katya take care of her, despite the somewhat accelerated beginning they had to whatever they have now. Katya is the first person Trixie has shared her tears with in...years. Admitting that she needs help, admitting that maybe she can't, or shouldn't, do it all on her own, is far from anything Trixie is comfortable doing. 

"There's no shame in that. I think everyone should be in therapy." Katya purposely makes her voice light on the last statement, and it works. Trixie lets out an amused noise from the back of her throat, her nose still clogged from crying. 

"I know. I know therapy is good. I know that therapy is useful. I know that therapy would be good  _ and _ useful for me. I just...hate it."

"I know, Barbie. And that's okay." Trixie's breath settles into an even rhythm as she thinks things over. 

"I think, I'll give it a week when we get back, and if I get a job offer out here, I'll find a therapist when we move. If that week passes and--" she stops to take a big breath and collect herself, "I don't get a job, which is fine, I'll keep trying, but I'll reach out to my old therapist again." The soft oblong shapes Katya's nails drag onto Trixie's back make her eyes heavy, the emotional come down mixing with the physical exhaustion of the day, gently putting her to sleep. Katya drifts off soon ever, limbs falling limply around the girl in her arms, a sense of peace returning in the city that feels like home. She didn't realize how much she'd missed it, or how run down the midwest had begun to feel. The energy that always pulses through her mixes with the breeze off the ocean and transforms into something she peaceful she didn't know was missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. This is short. Real short. Sorry about that. But!! I wrote it on the subway in Boston, so that's pretty lit. I want to say the next chapter will be longer, but uh, no promises. It'll almost definitely be happier though. Comment if you have public transportation where you live, and if you like it or not. Take care y'all <3


	19. Chapter 19

Nine and a half hours. Trixie buries the heels of her hands further into her eye sockets, frustrated that there'd been so little time in between their return home and doing her very best not to dissolve into tears of panic and frustration, amongst a multitude of other unpleasant emotions. She buries her face in the hoodie thrown on her bed, inhaling its new, manufactured scent. In the morning she goes back to her second job, working a coffee shop that's been shut down for months. And the day after that she works both jobs, making for a twenty hour day. And then a twelve hour day. And then another twenty hour day. Panic grips Trixie's chest like a vice, mind spinning out of control. If she hears back from the places she interviewed, and they want her out there in two weeks, when is she going to have time to pack everything and find an apartment? And maybe even worse, what if they say no? What if they don't want her? What if the interview later this week pans out, and she goes to work at an inpatient eating disorder center, and spirals out of control again? There's so many uncertainties, so many things she can't control, and the world feels like it's crashing down around her. She hates it. Hates it hates it hates it. Things could be so much worse. Things could always be worse. Things have been worse. But right now everything seems so close but just barely out of reach. What if she's gotten this close, fought so hard for it, only for it to all slip away?  
Katya slips in the the apartment after the sun has already set, the first day back in the office being longer than expected. Trixie is asleep on the bed, on top of all the covers, hollow circles beneath her eyes and a baby pink sweatshirt held close to her chest.  
"Маленький." They got matching sweatshirts in Boston, Katya's red and Trixie's a light pink, maybe a cheesy touristy thing, but who cares? They'd been wandering Quincy Market their last day there and come across one of the stands selling various items of clothing emprinted with BOSTON and 1630 beneath it. Trixie stopped to feel the soft inside of the sweatshirt, thoughts going back and forth in her mind. "I don't need it," she had said, "but I want something tangible to remember that this was real, this wasn't just a dream." Katya had grasped her hand and leaned against Trixie, her smaller but solid presence grounded and reassuring. They'd both ended up getting one, citing it as a good omen to coming back soon. Katya gently runs her fingers through Trixie's hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen across her face. Trixie wakes slightly, just enough to shove the sweatshirt beneath her head and wrap her arms around Katya instead. Her grasp is so intense it squeezes the air out of Katya's lungs before softening, muscles exhausted from the tension holding them tight as she'd fallen asleep earlier. Katya's heart tugs at the girl in her arms, limbs tangled together, Trixie's eyelashes soft against Katya's collarbone. Everything had felt so close, and now coming back it feels so out of reach. They'd been on the train home as Trixie had quietly confessed to her that she didn't realize how much stress she constantly put on herself until that weight was lifted for a moment. She'd reached over and entwined her fingers with Katya's, drawing her knees up into a ball and falling asleep against the smaller blonde. Katya had been awake a while longer, thinking, processing, planning, before draping herself across Trixie, fingers and limbs tangled together as they slept until the sun was rising over the midwest. Katya can tell that Trixie will get out of the midwest if it's the last thing she does, recognizing the intense determination, but hoping that if there is a higher power, this desperation will give way to a kinder future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's been a minute, and this chapter is a little rough. But hopefully the next one is better. 🖤 you all


	20. Chapter 20

It's the end of the last of Trixie's twenty hour days when Katya's phone starts to buzz. She picks it up immediately, heart pounding with worry. This past week has been hard on the both of them.

"Hey." Trixie's voice is high and colored with tears.

"Honey, what's wrong?" A shaky laugh comes over the phone, mixing with the stuttered breaths and frequent sniffles.

"Nothing's wrong. No. I got it. I got the job. They want  _ me. _ " Katya let's out a squeal and a loud laugh, feeling as though fifty pounds have been lifted off her shoulders. She showers Trixie in congratulations, prodding her for more details. Her first day is over a month away, giving them time to find an apartment, for Trixie to put in two weeks at the hospital, to take their time and not scramble to get everything together. Trixie will work forty hours a week, spread over five eight hour shifts. It sounds like a dream compared to four or five twelve hour shifts in a week, all overnight. The pay is enough that they can live in a safe area of town, pay the bills, and not have to get a second job. Everything finally seems to be working out. When Trixie steps through the door of their tiny apartment, she falls nearly boneless into Katya's strong arms, tears still streaming down her face. "I'm going to get out of here. I'm not going to be here forever." Trixie's whispered words are more for her sake than Katya's. Katya knew all along that Trixie could do anything she put her mind to, and so she holds her as she sobs, years and years of pain and worry flowing out of her. After a few minutes, Trixie sniffles back to reality, loosening her grip on Katya and unburying her face from the smaller girl's hair. She groans at her watch, displaying a time far later than she'd have liked. "I have to be at work in three and a half hours." Katya continues to stoke her hair as she hums in acknowledgement. Trixie buries her face back into Katya with a sigh.

"Go ahead and get some sleep. I'll find some food before you wake up." Trixie hums and pulls her closer.

"I don't deserve you." Over the past couple months, Trixie has gotten more comfortable with the back and forth manner in which they take care of each other, no longer immediately rejecting or later regretting the ways Katya takes care of her. It's such a simple gesture when Katya pulls the covers up around Trixie and presses a feather light kiss to her temple, but Trixie can feel the warmth radiate throughout her whole being. She dips into a peaceful sleep easily, the intense coupling of such exhaustion and relief pulling her under by the time Katya has crossed the apartment. It feels like only a few minutes have passed when there's a gentle grasp on her shoulder and she rolls over to find the smaller blonde perched on the bed next to her, a soft smile on her face.

"I made you pancakes." The corners of her lips pull up as she wraps her arms around Katya's waist, head in her lap as she looks up at her. They sit for a moment before Trixie allows herself to be pulled over to the table, snorting softly at the plate she finds there. There's three pancakes in a line, with strawberry jam spelling out 'yay.' "Congratulations is a very long word."

"Kat, the strawberry jam looks gruesome." Even so, Trixie pulls her into a hug, conveying all the gratitude behind the harmless teasing. Katya sits with her and they share their pancakes and coffee in a comfortable silence, and Trixie doesn't notice the way Katya looks at her more than her food, to the point of nearly missing her mouth a couple times. There's a confidence in her posture now, even exhausted and running on caffeine and the high of the future. She could've sworn her heart stopped when Trixie looked up and gave her a soft grin, the strawberry jam staining her lips, eyes sparkling, and then again when she pressed a brief kiss to Katya's cheekbone before hurrying out the door. She can't remember a time when the future has looked so bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter (sorry) but hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon. I'm getting excited y'all. Comment your favorite kind of jam, or what song makes you so gay you have to go lay face down on the floor for a minute. Thanks for reading y'all <3


	21. Chapter 21

In the hazy moonlight of the early morning hours, Katya stirs awake at the jiggle of the door. A moment and a few muttered curses later, the door swings open to reveal a frazzled looking blonde. Trixie crosses the apartment in firm strides, silently stomping before stooping to press a gentle kiss to Katya's temple. Katya can feel how the taller blonde's fingers tremble briefly against her shoulder, can see how they struggle with the laces of her sneakers after stripping off her scrubs and throwing on leggings and a hoodie. Keys and phone in hand, earphones playing maybe a little too loud, she takes off, feet pounding into the concrete of the sidewalk. She stops at all of the stoplights, watching carefully this morning. She turns right when she would've turned left, completing a mirror of the route tonight, avoiding the path by the hospital. Two and a half miles and twenty minutes later, Trixie drags her heavy legs up the stairs to Katya's their apartment, wearily grabbing her pajamas on the way to the bathroom. It's no longer so hot outside that she comes in and immediately strips to stand in front of the air conditioning, but not cool enough yet to crave the warmth of the covers and Katya's body next to hers after the brisk wind colors her cheeks. The bland neither here nor there of the current temperature is calming in a way, relishing in the light chill as she stands naked in the bathroom before throwing in her pajamas and heading to bed. Katya's eyes crack open at the squeak of the bathroom door and she pulls back the covers to let Trixie in. The taller blonde melts bonelessly into the mattress, exhausted. "Twenty four more hours, babe." Trixie whines noncommittally into Katya's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, reminding her that today she really truly needs to shower and wash her hair.   
"Thank god. It's a fucking train wreck there." Katya's fingers run through Trixie's hair, dancing across her shoulder blades and down her back. Trixie softens even further into the touch. "I had to chase a girl tonight." Katya makes a soft noise, prompting Trixie to go on as her fingers continue. "I got sent down to watch her in the ER, which happens, y'know. And we were in the room right across from the door, and she could see it open and shut every time someone walked past or when she went to the bathroom or anything. So we've been down there like an hour, and she asks for more water, and I told her she could come with me and we'd ask the nurse about the results we were waiting on, and we walked there fine, and as soon as I turn my back to get water she took off." She flops on her back, words accelerating as she stares up at the ceiling. "So I take off after her and she's fucking moving. She's booking it, out the ambulance bay and across the street and I'm worried she's gonna get hit, and I don't even think to look before following her into traffic and across the street. The ER nurse was faster than me though, the one with the attitude. So he swooped in and saved the day, per usual or whatever. But y'know, she's safe and on the unit now, and nobody got hurt. It just pisses me off, because this isn't the first time it's happened, and it's not a problem that they don't know exists, because I've brought it up in too many damn meetings and it's always ignored. Why do we keep our patients right by the door, especially that room where the door is right fucking in front of it, and they just watch it. And then the only thing between them and the door, is me. What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? She was smaller but fast. What about these big guys? They can squash me like a bug without even thinking twice. And the nurses constantly ignore us back there. If she'd taken off from her room tonight instead of by the nurses station getting water, no one would've noticed. Not a single person. It's ridiculous." Katya trails her fingernails up and down Trixie's bare arm, tucking away the acknowledgement of trust and safety they have between the two of them. While she understands it, Katya hates watching Trixie bundle up in long sleeves everyday for work, even when the temperature is well into the 80s and 90s. She imagines Trixie hates it too sometimes, but they never talk about it. It's in the way Trixie looks at the worn pink zip up she always wears to work, sighing almost imperceptibly before throwing it on and clipping her badge to the open zipper. But right now Trixie sits with her in nothing but a camisole and boxers, more at ease in her own skin with Katya by her side. "It's not fair. Not to the patients and not to us." Katya murmurs her agreement and Trixie rests her head in the curve where Katya's neck and shoulder meet. Four days together and then two last twelve hour shifts. The soft scent of Katya's shampoo and the solid thump of her heartbeat lull Trixie to sleep, easing the restlessness from the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, because apparently I don't know how to write when I don't want to hurtle myself into the void. I'm about to have a lot of down time though so hopefully it'll be a bit more productive than how hectic life has been lately. I'm posting this with about three hours left of my last shift at this place and honestly, I'm so ready. Comment how you like your pizza, how you think our gals like their pizza, and if they split a pizza or share and just pick off what they don't want. Love you all <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of smoking, drinking, and like, shitty families. Just a heads up.

"Can I use your lighter?" Trixie's voice cuts through the quiet stillness of the half packed apartment. She's seemed stuck in her head since she got home, giving Katya a brief, distant hug and puttering around the apartment. She looks at Katya, her expression blank as she fiddles with a pack of cigarettes. Trixie can still count the amount of cigarettes she's smoked on one hand, but every once in a while she'll stop by the gas station and pick up a pack for Katya.

"I think it's in the pocket of my jeans from yesterday. Is everything okay?" Trixie nods, retrieving said lighter and grabbing the bottle of vanilla vodka from the cabinet under the sink before leaving the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind her. Katya gives her time, sensing no animosity from Trixie. She'd spent the day with her family, and the texts Katya had received were few and far between. And so Katya gives her time, and space, but only for a while before grabbing her keys and heading out as well. She finds Trixie in the first place she looks: the park Katya showed her the day after they met. Her back is to Katya as she sits slumped on one of the swings, a cigarette burned almost to the end in one hand, the bottle open in the other. Katya watches as she takes one last drag before dropping the cigarette and putting it out with her toe. Trixie takes a hard swig from the bottle as Katya takes a seat on the swing next to her, offering her the bottle before screwing on the lid and tossing it in the grass when Katya declines. They sit in silence for a while, quiet companionship.

"There were a lot of people there."

"Were they nice? Did you like them?"

"Yeah. My dad's brother and his wife are nice enough. She's a sweetheart. Like, not to be dramatic but I'd die for that woman. The epitome of a Georgia peach."

"But?"

"My mom still takes out her stress on me. It's funny though. She'll call me by my first and middle name and she doesn't know that's not my name anymore."

"They don't know you changed your middle name?"

"I never saw a reason to tell them." Silence stretches between them as Katya reaches over and takes Trixie's hand. 

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Trixie shrugs.

"Not your fault, nothing you could do about it. It's just...disappointing. But also, a good reminder of what I'm leaving. Why I'm leaving, I guess." The moon shines bright above them, the illuminated orb and her thoughts captivating Trixie until Katya tugs on her hand, guiding her home.

****

It's six in the morning and Trixie is still awake, and oh my god why can't she stop crying. She rolls away from Katya, not wanting to disturb what she hopes is a peaceful sleep. But it's not enough. She can't help the way she starts to shake, the way her breaths begin to heave. As quietly as she can, she crawls out of bed and crosses to the bathroom on shaking legs, not even bothering to flip on the lights as she closes the door behind her, sliding down against the wall to sit on the floor. The sound of her rasping breaths fill the small room as her entire body trembles. Time passes in a fog until the door swings open and the room is thrown into light. Trixie hears Katya's startled gasp as she peers up at her through red, puffy eyes. "Trix? Baby what's wrong?" She clenches her eyes shut against a fresh onset of tears as she tucks her head back into her knees. She hears Katya sit beside her, her touch gentle until Trixie leans into it, silently letting her know yes, this is okay, please, ground me. Trixie shakes her head. There's too much going on upstairs to articulate clearly right now. The small, firm circles Katya rubs between her shoulder blades center her, ground her, until the tears and the shakes subside and she leans boneless against the smaller blonde. Katya tugs her to her feet, pulling her to bed as her eyes slow blink in and out of consciousness. With the younger girl tucked underneath the covers, passed out with dark shadows beneath her eyes, tear streaks still evident on her cheeks, Katya clenches her jaw as she returns to the bathroom. She'd had to pee when she found Trixie this morning. Every time she goes home, sees her family, they take steps back. Trixie doesn't come to her for help, convinced she can do it on her own. Trixie smiles more often, but it reaches her eyes less. Trixie talks less, trailing off midsentence more than usual. It hurts Katya to see her like this, to know the kind of presentation Trixie has to give her family, the kind of hurt she has to endure, the way Trixie isn't Trixie when she comes back. It takes time before Trixie comes back to her, and they talk about it. Trixie tells her about her family sometimes, and how things were growing up, and how things were when they got bad, but more often than not, Trixie tells Katya she's so thankful to have her in her life and wraps her in her arms, and everything else is left unsaid. Sometimes Katya wonders if it should be said, if it'd do any good to be said, and if Katya is ready to hear any of it. Katya brews a cup of coffee, sitting at the small table with her computer, working the morning away until Trixie rises, wrapping her soft arms around Katya with a gentle press of her lips to Katya's temple before making a stumbled beeline to the coffee. By the time she's nursing her second cup, a little more life has taken up residence in Trixie's eyes, and the thoughts tumbling in her head begin to spill out.

"I've been thinking a lot about being a kid."

"Yeah? Like--?"

"Like, what kind of kid is depressed by the time they're eight? And why did it take almost a decade for anyone to do anything about it? Like, what happened that I don't remember? Or like, when my brother was born? My mom took us to my grandparents almost every day because she was too anxious to do anything. Were things then...worse? Like, now? But worse? And I was three? A little less? Or is this just how I am? How I'm destined to be? What if this is how I am forever?" Trixie isn't looking at Katya anymore, but staring at her coffee cup, at the wall, out the window, anywhere that isn't eye contact. She settles down from the rapid fire pace the words had increased to and looks solemnly into her coffee, eyes not really seeing anything. Katya reaches over and squeezes her hand, giving a slight smile when Trixie looks up at her. She knows there's nothing she can say to help right now. Trixie just needs to get it out from where it's spinning in her brain. There's bits they might talk about later, but not right now. Trixie opens her mouth again, holding Katya's gaze with her own this time.

"We talked about my cousin a bit." Trixie's voice is flat, expressionless.

"The one who's nonbinary?"

"Yeah. They wore a bra and makeup to the get together. My mom asked me to explain." Every conversation about gender or sexuality is a knife dug deeper into Trixie's chest by her family. "I did a dumb and asked my dad why it bothered mom so much. He never really did say. I just got to hear a whole lot about how anyone who doesn't identify as their assigned gender at birth bothers him." She pauses, contemplative. "Sometimes I wonder...if things would be different. If he knew." Her face scrunches at the words not coming across like she wants. "I know things would be different, but would they be more or less accepting?" Trixie knows in her heart that things wouldn't change for the better. Not with her family, not as dysfunctional as they already are. She glances down at where their fingers are interlaced before locking eyes with Katya again. "I don't need them though. I never did. And now I have you." Warmth floods through Katya's heart at Trixie's simple statement. She squeezes her hand and smiles, holding onto the feeling as Trixie releases her hand to flutter about the apartment, chattering about their plans for the day and things to get done before they move. She listens to the words Trixie says, but all Katya can hear echoing through her brain are the three words she wants to say to Trixie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. It's been a minute. If I wrote a short bit of Trixie and Katya having a tiny human, is that a journey you'd want to take with me? Life has been a little nuts but I'm hoping to get the next few chapters done soon ish? I've got a 18 hour train ride coming up on Tuesday so if not before then, definitely then. Hope y'all are doing wonderful. Love you all <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil short, but I'm not good at writing happy stuff though. Shout out to CivonumusAdore though, I read her last comment making my coffee this morning and wanted to write this like, now. Thank you <3

"Hey, Kat?" Katya looks up at the hesitancy in Trixie's voice. They sit in approximations of where their furniture had been, having taken all of their boxes to the bus station to be shipped. Trixie sits on a yoga mat where their bed used to be, moonlight caressing her features as it streams through the window. "Can you come here? Please?" Katya sets her computer aside and pads over to sit by Trixie, mindful of the guitar on her lap. "I heard this song, and I knew I had to learn it because…" Trixie trails off, a softness taking the edge off her anxiety. "Just listen?" Katya nods and gives the younger blonde a soft smile, squeezing her hand before it takes its place on the neck of the guitar. Trixie's voice shakes ever so slightly through the first verse, solidifying but the time she hits the chorus, letting the song wash over both of them.

_ When the calls and conversations _

_ Accidents and accusations _

_ Messages and misperceptions _

_ Paralyze my mind _

_ Buses, cars, and airplanes leaving _

_ Burning fumes of gasoline _

_ And everyone is running _

_ And I come to find a refuge in the _

_ Easy silence that you make for me _

_ It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me _

_ And the peaceful quiet you create for me _

_ And the way you keep the world at bay for me _

_ The way you keep the world at bay _

Katya's heard Trixie sing countless times before, the soft strumming of the guitar filling their apartment on better days and the days that maybe aren't so great, but she's never heard this song before. And Trixie has never specifically asked her to listen to a song before. Ages ago Trixie had realized Katya is borderline useless for any sort of music critique, and this can't help but feel so very intentional as the simple chord structure and powerful lyrics rock Katya to her core. Trixie's carefully practiced fingers dance across the strings in the instrumental solo before transitioning to a single strum and raw vocals.

_ Children lose their youth too soon _

_ Watching war made us immune _

_ And I've got all the world to lose _

_ But I just want to hold on to the _

_ The easy silence that you make for me _

_ It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me _

_ And the peaceful quiet you create for me _

_ And the way you keep the world at bay for me _

_ The easy silence that you make for me _

_ It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me _

_ And the peaceful quiet you create for me _

_ And the way you keep the world at bay for me _

_ The way you keep the world at bay for me _

_ The way you keep the world at bay _

The sound of the guitar hangs in the air with the last harmony. Trixie looks up from the guitar, the piece of paper in front of her, everywhere she was looking not to make eye contact with Katya, but when their eyes meet, she knows in her heart that Katya understood everything Trixie couldn't say. The smaller blonde scoots closer, closing the small distance left between them with a hand on Trixie's cheek. She can feel Katya's fingers trembling as clear blue eyes search her own. "Can I…?" Katya's voice gets stuck in her throat as Trixie presses her cheek into Katya's gentle touch. She feels her nod as much as she sees it, trying to take in every bit of the beautiful sight before her. Katya dips her head down and Trixie meets her halfway, capturing her lips with her own. Trixie sets the guitar aside, bringing both hands to Katya's face before snaking her arms around to hold her tighter. Trixie's never kissed anyone, never seen the appeal, but her brain sees stars and she's flooded with  _ Katya Katya Katya _ . Katya's kissed a lot of people, boys, girls, and anyone in between, and she can't remember anyone else who fit so perfectly in her arms. The kiss slowly, easily, exploring each other with the pace that knows they have forever. They pause and Trixie opens her eyes to find Katya's bright blue eyes inches from her own. "Is it too soon to say I love you?" Trixie throws her head back to keep from laughing too loudly right in Katya's ear, but then pulls her even closer, fitting her head right in the crook of Katya's neck, lips nearly touching her ear as she responds gently.

"I love you too, you stupid lesbian." Katya joins in Trixie's chuckle with a laugh of her own, her heart light and giddy, calm and grounded all at once. Trixie lets out a soft him in the moonlight, content to stay right there in Katya's arms forever. But Katya pulls back, pulling Trixie to her feet. 

"C'mon. You know you'll regret it in the morning if we don't." Trixie sighs in agreement, cleaning up the meager dishes in the kitchen while Katya packs up her work. They join in the large empty space of the apartment and flow through the yoga they've come to do every night before bed, feeling more settled than either can remember. The bathroom is small, but there's space for the two of them to wash their face and brush their teeth without bumping into each other, but they don't want to. Trixie washes her face with a foot looped around Katya's ankle. Katya brushes her teeth with an arm looped in Trixie's. It's as if they can't be close enough. Katya grasps Trixie's hand as she flips off the lights and they walk back to their temporary bed, finally melting into each other's arms as they fall into a dreamless sleep, because what is there left to dream of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, go listen to Easy Silence by The Chicks. We definitely don't need to talk about how long I spent laying face down on my floor, listening to that song on repeat as I tried to process the fact that in less than a week I will be living somewhere where it's safe to have a girlfriend and be proud of being gay. One of the girls I dance with knows a little bit about my family and said she hopes everything is under control by next summer so I can go to the biggest, gayest pride Boston has to offer and let me tell ya--i almost cried. Love you all <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of suicide

Katya looks up from her work as the bathroom door creaks open. Each to their own, but she knows Trixie, and she knows Trixie was in there longer than usual. Sure enough, Trixie avoids looking at Katya as she bustles around the apartment quietly, packing odds and ends they'll take with them on the train. 

"Trix--" Katya's voice is gentle as she catches her girlfriend's attention.

"Yeah?" Her voice is raw, and Katya can see the way the tips of her ears flush with frustration of how it betrays her.

"Come here." Trixie looks at her, defeat in her big brown eyes, tear streaks dried on her cheeks. Katya pats the floor next to her and Trixie curls into her side, studying the graphics pulled up on Katya's computer. One of Katya's hands continues to manipulate the computer screen while the other comes up to rest on Trixie's jawline, drawing small circles by her ear.

"I'm tired of crying." Her voice comes out so small, making the few years between them feel more pronounced. The tears seem to come unexpectedly and overwhelmingly. Without the structure of her job, Trixie feels lost. There's so much to do, but so little motivation to do any of it most of the time. 

"It's okay to cry. It's understandable to." Trixie nods against Katya's shoulder at her reassuring words. So much is going to change. Even though it's for the better, it's still so much. Trixie's never moved out of state before, let alone across the country. She knows that when she moves, things will be different with her parents. There's already a huge part of her life she has to keep hidden from them and she hates that, but she can't risk letting them see. "When I first moved, I cried before I left. I cried some on the way here. And there were times I would just cry once I got here, for a while. It wasn't that I had second thoughts or didn't want to move here. Everything was just new, and overwhelming. And it's okay to be scared." Tears begin to slip off Trixie's cheek and onto Katya's shoulder. In her mind, her family already hates her. Even so, she's leaving everything she's ever known. Everything she's worked towards for the past five years is coming true, and it hits with an emotion Trixie wasn't expecting.

"Five years ago I was getting ready to go to college, with like, no intention of not killing myself by the end of freshman year." A beat of silence goes past, both girls deep in thought. "It's been a long five years." Katya closes the computer and sets it aside, wrapping her arms around Trixie. The taller blonde melts into her arms. The emotional rollercoaster she's been on the past week is exhausting, and she's just ready to go. Indiana has nothing more to offer her. There are days Trixie wishes she could be more proud of where she's come from, but when she looks around all she sees is pain, harsh judgement, the cruel way people can be to someone who's different from them. In the morning, Trixie has one last class with the dance company, before cleaning out their apartment and turning in the keys, and finally meeting Katya's cousin at the train station so he can take the car. Katya nudges her and Trixie looks up with tired eyes. The older blonde presses a kiss to her forehead before nudging her again towards where they sleep. Trixie wearily pads across the nearly empty room, Katya close behind her. She twists her fingers in Katya's bleach blonde hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo as she falls asleep counting down the hours left in this place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all. It's been a minute, and this is short. Sorry about that. Hope y'all are well. Much love <3


	25. Chapter 25

Katya wakes to the scent of coffee brewing, the vanilla kind she's come to associate with Trixie's trips to the grocery. She watches as Trixie fiddle in front of the coffee maker before disappearing down the creaky stairs, a small smile gracing her face as she takes in how her girlfriend pulses with life rather than anxiety this morning. She knows, all that won't last forever. They'll both have days riddled with anxiety, days when getting out of bed seems impossible, days when the world seems pitted against them. But they're here, together, in Boston, in a little room with slanted ceilings with creaky stairs leading down to the kitchen they share with the other tenants. Trixie returns with milk, fixing two cups of coffee just the way they like them before turning to Katya. The corner of her mouth smiles when she sees Katya watching her, eyes twinkling. 

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

"Didn't anyone tell you it's criminal to be that beautiful this early in the morning?" Trixie scoffs and rolls her eyes before gently capturing her girlfriend's lips in her own.

"I called and we get tested tomorrow at 10a. So today, we get to drink coffee, and go for a walk--"

"Do interesting things, solve problems, be happy." Trixie wraps her arms around Katya where they sit, coffee fogging up the window beside them.

"And be happy. Yes. I have been so sad, for so long, I never thought I could be this quietly happy." There's a peace that's seemed to have settled into both of them overnight. It's as if the dark cloud hovering over them stayed behind when they left. They sit in silence as they finish their coffee, gazing out the window of their new home. Katya tugs Trixie up to standing and guides them through a morning yoga routine, both groaning at their stiff muscles from close to twenty hours on a train. The smaller room means they bump into each other a little more, though neither of them minds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a cute little half chapter of fluff written that I tried and tried to finish, but when I try to force happy content, it's just shit. So enjoy this little bit of Soft(TM) because I also wrote a little over two pages of Angst(TM). Love you all <3


	26. Chapter 26

They’ve been in Boston for three weeks and it’s Trixie’s weekend off after her first week of work. The sun is shining, the breeze wrestles with their blonde hair, the feel of fall is in the air and for some reason the dollar store has pride fans in the middle of september. And Trixie’s heart is in her throat as she clutches her phone. She tries to swallow down her panic as Katya grins, delighted to spend the day exploring the city with Trixie again. But she can’t. Not when Katya knows her as well as she does. Not when Katya can pick up on the way Trixie’s pupils have gone wide and she doesn’t quite make eye contact, though she fakes it almost convincingly. She can’t hide it when Katya can pick up on how the line of her shoulders have gone taut and her smile is harsher, more forced and almost manic instead of the softness that usually graces her face. Not when her smile doesn’t reach her eyes and she fights to keep from pulling back when Katya takes her hand. She can’t still the quiver in her hand fast enough and Katya turns to look at her. The grin slides off her face and Trixie feels rotten inside. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes as she takes her hand from Katya’s stepping back away from the concern in her eyes. Her breaths come quick and short as she tells herself not to run, not to run, not to run. Katya takes a step forward, raising her hands to place them on Trixie’s shoulder, but Trixie flinches,  _ hard, _ and Katya takes a step back. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Trixie’s eyes dart anywhere and everywhere as she struggles to answer. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out, just shaking breaths she tries to still. Katya pushes down the fear that wants to rise up in her as she sees the panicked adrenaline coursing through Trixie. Fight or flight, they say, and everything about Trixie’s demeanor is crying out to flee now. Katya slows her voice, softening it as she tries to get through to Trixie. “C’mon. Let’s run home.” Trixie barely nods in acknowledgement before taking off like a dart, sprinting down the path. Katya follows at a jog, keeping her in sight while giving her space. She curses her lack of cardio as Trixie disappears around a corner and she picks up her pace. She rounds the corner and almost begins to panic when Trixie isn’t still running ahead. But then, there, part of a pink sneaker peeking out from behind a tree. Katya slows to a walk as she gets closer, slowing her breathing and her heart rate as she approaches where Trixie sits, knees tucked tightly to her chest and her face buried in her knees. Her shoulders shake with tears and gasping breaths as Katya sits down beside her. This time when Katya whispers, she doesn’t flinch away. She raises her head to meet Katya’s eyes with such sadness in her own, and leans into Katya’s embrace as she wraps her strong arms around her. The adrenaline fades and Trixie’s body feels spent, exhausted. She just breathes, head on Katya’s shoulder as she grounds herself in the small circles she draws on her shoulder blades. A few minutes go by, Trixie assumes, it could’ve been thirty seconds or an hour, and Katya’s nimble fingers stop their patterns, shifting instead to help Trixie stand. Everything spins and goes black for a couple of seconds as Katya holds onto her before the world comes back into focus. Katya wraps her arm around Trixie’s waist as they continue on home, thankful it isn’t far. They reach their apartment, Katya letting go of Trixie to lock the door and take off her shoes. But when she turns around, Trixie hasn’t moved a muscle, still studying the floorboard with a vacant expression. Katya tugs her to the bed where she curls numbly into herself as Katya sets about making a cup of tea. It isn’t long before she’s being tugged to sit on the edge of the bed and a warm cup of tea is being pressed into her hands. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes again, breaking through the numbness.

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice comes out in a cracked whisper as Katya sits beside her.

“Honey, no. You’re okay. What are you sorry for?” Katya struggles to keep her own emotions in check as tears spill down Trixie’s cheeks again.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry that I still don’t have it all together. I’m sorry that I’m still so much of a wreck. I’m sorry that I’ll never be able to take you home and show you off, that there will always be a part of my life that I have to keep separate. I’m sorry that I can’t be everything you deserve. I’m sorry I can’t--” Katya cuts her off with a soft shush and a gentle finger to quivering lips. 

“Baby, no.  _ You _ are what I want. Mess and all. We’ve all got our mess.” She moves her finger to wipe away Trixie’s tears with the pad of her thumb. “I only worry because I care about you, because I don’t always know how to help what’s going on inside your mind. I don’t wish that kind of stuff on anyone, especially not someone I love.” Trixie squeezes her eyes shut tight against the onslaught of more tears.

“You shouldn’t love me. You should find someone better.” Katya’s heart breaks at the whisper but she turns on her goofy grin anyways.

“Well suck it up, buttercup. I happen to think you’re the best. And unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me.” The corners of Trixie’s mouth don’t even twitch at Katya’s gentle prod at her ribs. She’s tanner now, after actually having time off to spend in the sun. She hasn’t gained back the weight she lost, it’d be hard to with the miles and miles of walking they’ve been doing around Boston, but she looks healthier. But there are still times like today, when she looks so exhausted, so beaten down, so worn out. Katya wraps an arm around Trixie again, tugging her close. “Do you want to talk about it?” Trixie shrugs, sighing into her tea. 

“No. But I should. I am, y’know, legitimately sorry that I scared you. That kinda sucked.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I just didn’t know what was going on in your head. I wasn’t scared of you, I was scared  _ for  _ you.” Trixie shrugs again.

“Regardless…” She takes a deep breath, setting aside the tea and taking Katya’s free hand in both of her own. “My parents left for Minnesota today. I knew they were going in September, but I didn’t know exactly when, and it just kinda, all hit me at once, y’know? I’m eight hundred and sixty odd miles from where I used to be, I’m a shitty daughter, and on top of that, I’m gay and they don’t know it.” Katya tugs Trixie into her with both arms, feeling Trixie rest her head against Katya’s heartbeat. She’d mentioned it before, in passing, that every year or so her parents go to Minnesota for her mother’s heart check up. And in another mention, how Trixie’s dad would turn the guilt and blame on her, naming Trixie’s struggles with her mental health, or Trixie putting even the slightest toe out of line, as the root cause of stress for her mother and therefore the cause of any worsening condition of her heart. Nevermind that it’s a congenital defect that she’s had since birth. Nevermind all of the other life stressors involved. No. Just Trixie is to blame. The thought of increased stress on her heart killing her mom haunts Trixie when she thinks on it for too long. Katya knows it’s why she isn’t honest with her family, why she keeps who she is a secret from them, why she performs to their standards whenever she’s with them, whether it be in person or over the phone from hundreds of miles away. It’s ingrained in Trixie’s mind that being anything less than perfectly what they want has the direct potential to lead to her mother’s death. When she’s removed from it, when she’s in a good place, Trixie can look at the situation and she can tell Katya it’s a little fucked up, that being herself shouldn’t be equated with killing her mom. But Katya didn’t know how far removed from it she had to bring herself, how far she had to shove the memories back and how hard she had to force logic to the forefront. And so Katya just holds her, grounding her as Trixie brings herself back. It shocked her the morning after they met and even now Katya still doesn’t know what to think about how quickly Trixie manages to pull herself together, composing herself to the degree that no one would ever guess she ever struggled.

“She’s gonna be okay.” Katya presses a kiss to Trixie’s temple as the younger girl nods in response, moving about the apartment to set aside their empty mugs and grab pajamas for both of them. She tosses a pair of boxers to Katya with a small smile.

“C’mon. It’s your turn to pick the movie tonight.” Katya grins wide in return. They’re gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been forever since I've posted. I moved across the country and started a new job, so I've had less time to write and less existential dread to feed into writing material. I went back and reread this story from the beginning to try and figure out what I wanted to do with the storyline, and really, I can't thank you guys enough for always reading and commenting. It's been a long year and I took all of my feelings and put them on paper and y'all went on a journey with me. I don't know how frequent updates will be going forward, or if I'll start to wrap this one up and focus on other fics. I love and appreciate every single one of you <3


	27. Chapter 27

Katya bites her tongue as she watches Trixie's hands shake, making another cup of coffee before leaving for work. Instead she wraps her arms around Trixie's waist, resting her head against her shoulder blades. Trixie finishes what she's doing and turns around in Katya's arms, pulling her tight against her chest before stepping away, brushing a feather light kiss to the high of Katya's cheekbone.

"I'll be back late tonight. Should be before one though." Two weeks into her new job, Trixie thought she was feeling a lot more settled, but today is her first day on a new shift. She's sure it'll be fine, but she can't help but worry. Katya blows her a kiss as she steps out the front door, getting a soft smile in return. She sighs as she turns around and faces the stairs. She could go back to what she'd been working on, or...The couple in the room below them have been fighting this week. Katya doesn't like it, but it doesn't take the toll on her that it takes on Trixie. She can feel the way Trixie stirs in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep. She doesn't miss the way Trixie is more jittery than usual, the way she's on edge and alert all the time, the way she barely ventures out of their room anymore. They don’t yell, thank god, but the slammed doors echo throughout the house, and Katya had watched the color disappear from Trixie’s face when they were in the kitchen one day, as one of the downstairs tenants had been washing dishes and the other had stormed in and thrown a dish in the sink. She’d taken Trixie’s hand and quietly led her back upstairs but they never talked about it. With a deep breath and a strong step forward, Katya gives several sturdy knocks to their door, not even sure what to say if they answer. But all she gets in response is silence, understandable for working adults early in the afternoon. She lets out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding before continuing upstairs to the room she shares with Trixie. There’s little bits of each of them spread all throughout the small space, mingling and mixing together in a way Katya has grown so fond of. She sits down in front of her computer again, staring at the design she’d been working on before grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, jotting down a quick note for the other tenants. It sounds okay if she phrases it as ‘how can I help? just checking on you’ instead of ‘please stop with the passive violence i’m watching my girlfriend retreat further and further into herself and i don’t know what else to do,’ doesn’t it? With a quick few folds, she’s off down the stairs and the note is beneath the door before she can second guess it anymore. She dives into work the best she can for the next couple hours before calling it a day and heading downstairs in search of dinner. People pass as she stares out the kitchen window, intriguing and enchanting Katya. Things are more different than she’d remembered. In the midwest there’d been such strict adherence to gender norms by most of the population. Any variance was few and far between. Her fingertips dance along the buzzed underside of her hair. One night before they’d moved, Trixie had come home to find Katya with a pair of hair clippers, a jagged undercut, and a very satisfied grin on her face. She’d let out her big laugh and wrapped Katya in her arms before sitting her down to fix the incredibly uneven edge. Every couple of weeks or so, Katya will pile all her hair on top of her head and Trixie will meticulously trim the buzzed hair back down. It’s fun, she loves it, but she wants more. The evening passes with the sun setting far too early, and Katya hops on the bus to the hospital. These days Trixie seems most like herself right after work, being comfortable and confident in what she does, no longer stretched thin between positions she’s not qualified for or long hours wearing her down to the bone. Katya occupies herself on her phone as she waits by the employee entry/exit until there’s a familiar voice humming a tune and she looks up to see Trixie, untangling her headphones as she walks, and her heart stops the same way it does every time. She lets her footsteps be loud enough to catch Trixie’s attention, having learned quickly not to surprise her too soon after work. Being on a psych unit for eight to twelve hours at a time doesn’t lend well to a calm, gentle reaction when someone sneaks up and wraps their arms around you. In an odd way, it was comforting to Katya, the speed at which Trixie had her held by the wrists before realizing who it was and pulling her into a hug and wincing out an apology, thankful her instinct is to disarm patients rather than fight. Tonight she’s come to accompany Trixie home on the bus late at night when the more interesting passengers seem to occupy the seats, but she knows Trixie would be just fine on her own. The rapid footsteps bring Trixie’s gaze up quickly, alert and on edge before breaking into a soft grin as she sweeps Katya up and spins her around. No matter how tough either of them pretend to be to everyone else, how distant, how rough around the edges, how firm, they always melt into each other's arms, like this particular space is where they were meant to inhibit. Trixie drops Katya back down to her feet, taking her hand as they walk to the bus stop. Trixie has settled into her body for the evening, but Katya still jitters on the bus, even with the late hour and the growing exhaustion. 

“What’s on your mind?” Trixie’s voice is soft and clear as they wait at the bus station for their connecting bus to arrive. Katya’s mind races and her heart feels as though it will beat out of her chest. Trixie can read her like an open book, even before Katya’s sorted out all of her thoughts on a matter. She doesn’t intentionally grip Trixie’s hand harder, but when she begins to rub circles on the back with her thumb, Katya notices her knuckles have nearly gone white and her grip can’t be comfortable for Trixie. She lets go, anxiously rubbing her palms on her pants. 

“I--” There’s a lump in Katya’s throat that won’t budge, no matter how many times she swallows, how much she tries to breath it down. Her breaths come in and out at a quickening rate and she feels Trixie drape and arm around her tense shoulders.

“Babe, whatever it is, it’s okay.” Katya squeezes her eyes shut and hates that they’ve filled with tears. This shouldn’t be this hard. This shouldn’t be  _ this. Hard.  _ She grounds herself in the circles Trixie rubs onto her back, cursing herself for thinking too much earlier in the day and nearly falling apart on Trixie as soon as she got off of work. This is not what she intended at all.

“I’m--” Katya looks up at her and all she sees in Trixie’s eyes is concern and kindness and so much love. “I’m not, I’m not sure I’m a girl.” She can feel Trixie’s breath of relief as she pulls Katya into her chest. 

There’s a soft snort into Katya’s hair and when she leans back, Trixie’s smiling that soft, sweet smile at her.

“I know.” She wipes Katya’s tears with a gentle thumb, shaking her head gently at Katya’s shocked expression. “You had both she and they as your pronouns on tinder. You look at your reflection with peace and confidence when you’re in drag. I love you for who you are, and nothing is going to change that.” Katya snorts and wipes her face with the back of her hand. 

“Indiana was so rigid and structured about everything, and I thought I came to terms with all this but like, I just repressed the shit out of it I guess. I know I’m not a boy, and anatomy says I’m a girl, so I went with it. And now, I forgot how much, just, sheer gender ambiguity there is here, and I have that choice again, and it’s kinda stressing me the fuck out. And I just--I thought too much about it today. I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet by the end, but Trixie just wipes the straggling tears from Katya’s cheeks and runs her fingers through Katya’s tangled hair.

“Hey, none of that. No apologies here, кошка.” Katya’s heart melts at the nickname, at the effort Trixie has taken to begin learning the language. “Not for tears, not for figuring things out. You just...let me know, okay? Let me know if there are things you want me to change, name, pronouns, words. I’m here for you. I love you.” She pulls Katya into a hug, tears soaking the shoulder of Trixie’s shirt as the bus finally arrives. It’s mostly empty, and the city bus drivers aren’t phased by anything, especially this late at night. Katya curls into Trixie’s side, whispering her thanks and her love, fighting exhauster, heavy eyelids as Trixie drops a kiss to the top of her head. Next thing Katya knows, Trixie is nudging her awake, and the house is blissfully silent as they creep up the stairs. Katya feels too small in the bed as Trixie washes her face, when she returns and wraps Katya in her arms, things feel like they’ll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> кошка--pronounced "koh-shka," meaning cat  
> Hey guys, I'm not sold on this chapter, so thanks for bearing with me and reading it. There's kind of a lot going on in it. I might transition into using they/them pronouns for Katya in future chapters, but I'm not sure yet. I'd love to hear what the views on gender and its fluidity are where you guys are. As always, thanks for the love and support. Love you all <3


	28. Chapter 28

It's early in the morning when Trixie comes home, having settled back into a night shift routine over the past month or so. She presses a light kiss to Katya's forehead, running a gentle hand over the messed up braids she put their hair into the night before. It's not that they can't do it on their own, but both of them enjoy the gentle time spent together with Trixie's nimble fingers working through tangled blonde hair, Katya actually managing to sit still for a few minutes. They're more settled here, both of them, actually. Trixie gets a small, sleepy smile in return as she throws on a hoodie and sweats to go for a run in the chilled morning air. The sun is up, but the morning is so overcast it's not overwhelming. She doesn't run every morning now, just when she wants to. It feels good. It feels like she never wants to go back. Things aren't perfect, but they're better than either of them could've imagined. Two miles later, her cheeks are rosy with cold and her heart is light. She grabs something for breakfast and climbs the stairs to find Katya sitting on the bed, fiddling with their phone, two steaming mugs beside them. She wraps her partner in a hug as she plops in their lap, earning a deserved shriek at the chill of her hands on the back of their neck as she places a kiss on the tip of their nose. 

"Babe, you're so cold, oh my god. Put on your pajamas and get back over here." Katya playfully shoves Trixie off their lap, the taller blonde giggling in response. She does as she's told though, and crawls under the covers this time, wrapping a leg around Katya's as they hand her one of the mugs, keeping the other for themself. Herbal tea for Trixie as she ends her day, coffee for Katya as they start theirs. It's a schedule that works for them, watching an episode or so of a show, snuggled together in bed as Katya wakes up and Trixie goes to sleep, and then spending the evenings together after Katya has finished their work for the day and Trixie prepares to head into work. Katya refreshes their email one more time before setting their phone on the nightstand beside them, plugging in Trixie's as well after she double and triple checks her alarms are on and the volume turned up. 

"Still nothing?" Katya sighs at Trixie's question. 

"Yeah, still nothing. The website said they restock a couple times a week, and I get that things are a little different right now, but it's been a while." Trixie makes a small noise of acknowledgement, sipping her tea as she watches Katya fiddle to find a show on the computer. "It's okay though. I can wait." The size Katya wears is sold out for the binder she's been eyeing, and signing up for a notification when they restock has them checking their email almost as often as Trixie had when she was applying for jobs. It's alright though. They meant it when they said they're okay waiting. They decided to get a binder first, and then maybe go through with shaving their head. Things seem easier since they've told Trixie, her easy support helping the self acceptance come easier than when surrounded by a community of hate. Cooler weather is coming in, and with it the sweaters and layers both of them are so fond of. As if the pride flag on the bookcase wasn't enough of an indicator, anyone entering their room would know they are, in fact, gay, with Trixie's pink boots sitting right next to Katya's black. Just days before the first snow of the fall, the couple had ventured down Newbury Street, and gotten Trixie her first pair of Doc Martens. Katya had sat and listened as Trixie went back and forth with herself, balking at the cost, but also arguing that they'll last for years, and never really go out of season. So pink lace up boots it is, for rain boots, snow boots, and general lesbianism. It always fascinates and amuses Katya how they can sit back and listen to Trixie fully debate both sides of an argument with herself, and then thank the other person for help with the conclusion she's brought herself to. They gently tug the empty mug from Trixie's grip as she begins to doze off, snuggling deeper under the covers and wrapping her arms around Katya's waist. Their gentle fingers run through Trixie's long, honey blonde locks, playing with their girlfriend's hair until she's fast asleep with a soft smile on her face, before untangling themself from her loving arms to start the day. They look back at Trixie with a gentle smile, love and contentment warming them from the inside out. It's mornings like these they feel like they could stay here forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves. Sorry it's been literal ages, and it's a short one. It's been a good day, and I hope the same is true for you all. Much love <3


	29. Chapter 29

Trixie's hand gropes the bedside table to stop the blaring of The Chicks, prying her from her sleep. Her phone slips from her grasp and gentle fingers entwine with hers in its place. 

"Baby...it's time to get up." Even with Katya's gentle words, Trixie buries her face further into the pillow, thickness building in the back of her throat.

"Nooo...it's still early." She knows her words come out as more of a whine, sleep and emotion clogging her throat. The blankets are thrown back and she tucks herself into the fetal position. She can't help the tear that trails from the corner of her eye as gentle hands pull all her hair together, twisting it into a messy bun. 

"C'mon. Up." Her eyes finally fall open and she wishes she could close them again, turn back the clock so she doesn't see Katya looking at her with such sympathy and concern. Katya's face is etched with worry and Trixie hates herself for causing that. Their hands capture hers and tug until Trixie sits up. "I'm going to make dinner and coffee. Go shower." There isn't much Trixie can do but silently nod and shuffle off to the bathroom, exhausted and ashamed. She lets go of her tears as the hot water spills over her, unsure why she's even crying in the first place. But the shower helps a little, and she feels a little more human as she tugs on her long sleeved leotard and a pair of scrub pants, forgoing the top for now. She gets so cold at work these days. In the kitchen, she wraps her arms around Katya, pressing a gentle kiss to their temple and getting a small, satisfied hum in response. They pull the last of the waffles from the iron, setting them on the two plates on the counter and handing one to Trixie, followed by a mug of coffee.

"Thank you. I love you." It's taken time, but when her mind says 'i don't deserve you,' her heart also says 'i love you,' and that is what she has to choose to focus on. 

"I love you, too, девушка." If Katya didn't know it would only make things worse, they'd be tempted to call Trixie in sick to work. She's there too much lately, every night, for too long it seems sometimes. The eight hour shifts seemed enticing, and they're still nice, when eight hours don't bleed over into twelve or sixteen, when there's more than one day off every two weeks. But Trixie has a tendency to run herself ragged, eager to prove herself, almost desperate to help. And so everything else begins to fade into the background, and day in and day out it's work work work, running off of gentle kisses from Katya and willpower more than anything else. Katya tells her to shower, because the last time she showered was after her shift on Monday, close to 2am on Tuesday, and it's already come back around to Saturday. She stares at the food Katya's handed to her, unsure of the last time she ate something more than yogurt, apples, and bland popcorn. Things are so much better than they were, and yet she still can't manage to care for herself on a continual basis. It doesn't help that she went from new girl to the only tech on night shift when her coworker called out sick for over a week, leaving Trixie responsible for all of the tech duties, stressing her out more than she cares to say. She methodically works her way through the plate, inhaling the cup of coffee beside it, eyes cast down the entire time. She doesn't want to notice the way Katya's gaze never leaves her, raking over the prominent shadows beneath her eyes, the way her collarbones present themselves more than they used to, the way her shoulders droop and tense as she hunches in on herself. They sit in silence, Katya finishing first but fiddling with their fork as they watch Trixie finish. Trixie stands, grabbing both of their plates to wash before fixing another cup of coffee to take to work. Katya feels lost as they watch Trixie, unsure how to pull her back out of herself this time. No, Katya knows. This is something Trixie has to realize, has to address. This isn't something Katya can fix for her. Katya can prod in the right direction, offer gentle reminders, be there with love and support, but...they sigh as Trixie pulls them to their feet, wrapping them in a hug and pressing a kiss to their lips before squeezing their hand and heading out the door. Sleep doesn't come easily for Katya, worrying about Trixie across town, even though they don't know the way Trixie's heart pounds, the way her body feels like it's vibrating even while her brain races and fogs at the same time. They don't know the way Trixie's heart breaks as she wonders why she does this to herself, why she shuts herself away. The hours drag by, the bed seeming too big to Katya tonight, Katya's arms too far away from Trixie, and she aches to go home and close that gap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might flip this chapter and the last. I really should learn to plan and edit these things but y'know, it hasn't happened in the last six years. I hope you're all doing well. Big hugs <3


	30. Chapter 30

She can't help the grin that spreads across her face as she lets herself into their room. Katya stirs as Trixie crawls into bed, strong thighs straddling their narrower hips, cold hands cupping their face. 

"Good morning." Their voice is thick with sleep as they press their cheek into Trixie's hand, still stained with vital signs jotted down at work because at this point she's accepted that she'll never remember something to write them down on. 

"Доброе утро, котик." Even in their sleepy haze, Katya's cheeks begin to tinge, soft with affection and the way Trixie takes a Russian language book to the overnight shifts, studying and learning, bringing home questions more often than not (russian is hard, give her a break). "Guess what went on sale this morning." Katya wracks their brain for things they've been looking at. They've both been eyeing apartments since settling into work schedules but that would be such an odd way for Trixie to phrase it. "It'll be here in five to twelve days." All the while Trixie's pressing gentle kisses along Katya's jawline clear back to their ear, which is decidedly not helping their brain concentrate. Trixie pulls back and Katya wrenches her tired eyes open. "No idea?" Katya answers with a small shake of their head and Trixie's smile stretches even further, her nose scrunching in excitement. "I didn't get an email about a restock, but I got an email about a sale starting at midnight, when i just so happened to be at work, and when I got on to check, there they were." Katya blinks slowly as Trixie bubbles in excitement.

"No." Confusion and disbelief color their voice and Trixie leans down close again.

"Yes." Katya's face breaks into a sloppy grin, eyes falling shut again as they pull Trixie in, wrapping her in their arms. Emotion clogs in their throat. Thank you doesn't feel adequate enough to say. They didn't know Trixie signed up for email alerts, or even just to be notified when the binders went back in stock. There's something in even those subtle gestures that make them feel so loved, and accepted and supported in a way they didn't know before, and they want to cry with the feeling of it all. 

"You didn't have to." Katya's voice squeaks past, hoarse with sleep and emotion. They can feel Trixie smile into their neck as she hums.

"I know. I wanted to make sure they didn't sell out again."

"But--" Trixie shhhs Katya, a gentle finger smoothing over their lips.

"Babe, I know I didn't have to. I wanted to." She pulls back, turning Katya's face to make them face her. Trixie gives them a small smile, and Katya returns one of their own, albeit it a little watery. Trixie's thumb brushes over the high of Katya's sharp cheekbone, wiping away the few years that spilled over.

"I love you so much." It means so much, to the both of them, that no matter how often they say "I love you," they always mean it with their whole hearts. Growing up, I love you was always said almost perfomatively in Trixie's life. Now she can't say it enough. Every second of the day, she wants Katya to know how much she loves them. And she knows the feeling is returned just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been like a decade and a half since I've updated here (and it's short what am I doing). Knock on wood cross my fingers I'll try and have more up soon. Love you all <3


End file.
